


Where the Wild Roses Grow

by staringatthesky



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Drama, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 60
Words: 169,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staringatthesky/pseuds/staringatthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rosalie thought she had it all, a perfect present and a golden future, until one night of violence shattered everything. Broken and hurting she turns her back on her old life and starts anew, learning along the way what it really means to let go of being a victim and emerge as a survivor. Because sometimes the most beautiful things are found in the darkest places. All human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flying Away

**Author's Note:**

> A/N- Just a quick warning. This is an all human story, but I'm trying to incorporate as many canon elements as I can. Since I'm working with Rosalie that means that I'm going to be dealing with rape and violence and the after effects of trauma. The rape and beating occurred prior to the story's beginning and there won't be graphic descriptions of either as I don't feel it's necessary, but the aftermath is what the story is about and if this is a particularly sensitive or upsetting topic for you than perhaps this isn't the story for you.
> 
> I also want to add that I'm not a doctor or psychologist or therapist or anything. I was diagnosed with PTSD a few years ago after a traumatic incident (not a sexual assault, something else) and so when I'm writing Rosalie here I'm writing from my own experiences and memories- I am not writing from any position of expertise on ptsd or therapy and it's different for everyone.
> 
> After all that serious stuff…I hope you enjoy it! It's my first time writing all-human Twilight fic, so I'm not all that sure how it's going to go. As always, comments and questions are very welcome and all credit goes to Stephenie Meyer for the creation of the characters and the Twilight world!

The pressure from the plane taking off pushes me back against the seat and makes my ears ring. I swallow hard to make my ears pop, and then sigh and relax as the plane levels out. We’re flying out in the grey, pre-dawn light, and I watch silently as the lights of New York tilt and curve underneath me as the plane find its path. It’s not until we’re through the clouds and I can’t see any more that I turn back to face front.

The flight attendants go through the safety demonstration, and once they’re done I plug my own headphones into the seat and flip through the movie channels. There’s not much I haven’t seen- in the last eight weeks I’ve done pretty much nothing but lie in bed and watch movies and tv shows downloaded from the net – so in the end I settle for watching an old favourite from my childhood.

My brother Jasper is beside me, listening to his ipod and leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed. I can’t help but notice how tired and strained he looks. I guess the past few weeks have been hard on all of us, in different ways.

Jasper opens his eyes long enough to accept a beverage and package of cookies from the attendant when she rolls around the cart. Without saying anything he opens my cookies before he passes them to me, and although I don’t say anything I do appreciate it. With the fibreglass cast encasing my left arm from the second knuckles of my fingers to my elbow a lot of little things are difficult.

“You should try and sleep a little, Rosalie,” Jasper says quietly. “You look tired.”

I don’t answer him. Of course I’m tired. I’m _exhausted_ …he knows how little I sleep these days. But as New York falls further behind us and I think about getting _away_ from everything I can feel myself relaxing and think that maybe Jas is right. Maybe I should take a nap. I lean back in the seat and close my eyes.

I’m not aware of falling asleep, but I know I have when the dream starts. The same thing, the darkness and cold and the horrible laughter…even in the dream I know it’s not real but that doesn’t stop the flood of terror I feel as it surrounds me.

“Rosalie…Rose!” It’s Jasper, his voice low and urgent in my ear. “You’re dreaming. Wake up, it’s okay.”

He doesn’t touch me. He learned that lesson early on, when I woke from one of the nightmares and whacked him in the face with my cast. I don’t have any signatures or drawings or funny saying on my cast- the only mark on it is the scattered brown drops of Jasper’s blood from where I split his lip open.

Now I wrench myself back into wakefulness, feeling the familiar sweating shakiness that always comes with the nightmare. I breathe hard for a minute, the artificially cool air of the aeroplane reassuring me that it’s okay now, it was only a dream and not real, not now…I touch my face, feeling calmer.

“Thanks,” I say to Jasper quietly.

“It’s okay. I thought I should wake you anyway, we’ll be landing soon if you want to go to the bathroom or anything.”

“Yeah, I think I will.”

I move past him and walk down the plane to the bathroom, ignoring the eyes that follow me. Women look with envy and men look with desire…it’s been this way for years and I don’t even think about it anymore.

It’s awkward enough to manoeuvre in the tiny bathroom even without the added burden of my cast, but I manage as best I can. I use the toilet and then splash some water on my face with one hand, scrubbing it dry with a scratchy paper towel. I have fading marks on my cheek where I slept against Jasper’s shoulder and my blonde hair looks dirtier and messier than usual. I run my fingers through it and wish I’d thought to bring my hairbrush.

Back at my seat Jasper buckles me in for the landing in Seattle. I hate being dependent on him for so much help! I know the cast is due to come off soon, and I can’t wait.

The plane has barely stopped when the passengers are on their feet, pulling down bags from the overhead lockers, jostling slightly to get into the aisle and get out of the plane. I sit motionless though, and Jasper waits patiently beside me.

“I don’t want to go,” I say abruptly, staring down at my hands. My fingernails have grown back, and the ones on my casted arm are dirty. “I don’t want to live with strangers and start over at a new school.”

“You know Dr and Mrs Cullen,” Jasper says reasonably.

“I don’t know their kids.”

“Would you rather be at home?”

“No.” I bite my lip. “I guess this is the lesser of two evils…I know that, I’m just complaining.” With a deep sigh I rise to my feet and gather my jacket and backpack. “Come on, let’s go,” I say, and follow Jasper’s tall form down the aisle. We’re the last ones off the plane.

The airport is busier and noisier than I had expected for eleven on a weekday morning. The crowds of people pushing around us as we make our way through the domestic arrivals gate are making me tense, and I nearly snap at a child who bangs into my leg and steps on my foot. I grit my teeth and move closer to Jasper.

“It’s okay Rosalie,” Jasper tells me, looking around. “Dr Cullen said he’d be waiting for us. We’ll be out of here soon.”

I hunch my shoulders slightly and hold my sweater closer to me, crossing my good arm defensively over the cast. I can feel my heartbeat racing, and I’m horrified at the idea of having a panic attack here, in the middle of this crowd. I force myself to take a deep breath, and then amongst the strangers I see a familiar face. Dr Carlisle Cullen, my dad’s old college roommate.

“Over there,” I mutter to Jasper, and the two of us head over to the tall blonde man. Beside him I see the sleek, caramel brown curls of his wife, Esme.

“Jasper, Rosalie, it’s good to see you!” Dr Cullen shakes Jasper’s hand and would shake mine if I didn’t have both my hands hidden under the sweater I’m holding bundled up to my chest.

“Hi Dr Cullen, Mrs Cullen,” Jasper says.

“Oh, you have to call me Carlisle now,” the doctor says with a grin. “I can’t be Dr Cullen at home.”

“And you must just call me Esme,” she adds. She’s small and soft and smiling at us with friendliness, but when she goes to hug me I flinch. I can’t help it. I don’t like anyone to touch me now. Esme just pretends she doesn’t notice though, and touches Jasper lightly on the arm. “Let’s go find your luggage and then we can get out of here. We’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us.”

Silently I follow them the baggage claim, letting Jasper answer their questions about the flight and about how our father is doing. No one mentions why we’re here, but everyone knows it and the knowledge hangs heavily in between us all.

We’re lucky that our bags come through quickly. Jasper claims his rucksack and throws it on a trolley and then drags my two suitcases off the carousel. His camera bag comes last, vibrant with the bright ‘FRAGILE’ stickers all over it, and he places it carefully on the top of the stack. I shrug out of my backpack and add it to the pile as Jasper pushes the trolley after Carlisle as he leads us out of the airport.

I like the car. It’s a Mercedes, the newest model, and the leather seats are soft and comfortable when I slide into the backseat beside Jasper.

“It’s about three and a half hours to Forks,” Carlisle says, looking at us in the rear view mirror. “We’ll stop somewhere along the way for lunch, and just let us know if you need anything. Otherwise, just settle in.”

It’s a pretty quiet drive. Esme and Carlisle talk a little, and Esme addresses a few things to Jasper. He does his best to answer, but he’s never been in to small talk and she’s not very successful at drawing him out.

I put my headphones on and stare out the window at the passing scenery. I know I’m being rude and I should be making more of an effort, but I can’t. I know they’re doing so much for Jasper and I, taking us in this way, but the necessity of it makes me so angry that I half hate them for their generosity.

Really, I just hate the whole world right now.

I hear Esme’s light laugh even through the headphones, and see the smile Carlisle gives her. I wonder why they’ve decided to do this, take in Jasper and I to live with them for our senior year of high school. Especially considering that they already have three adopted high school aged kids of their own.

I curl a length of my hair around my finger and pull on it, the way I always do when I’m anxious. I’ve never met the Cullen kids before. Dr Cullen and my father were college roommates and they’ve always kept in touch. Dr Cullen and Esme have stayed with us every year when they come to Rochester for an annual medical conference, but their kids never came and we’ve never even been to their place in Forks. I know that their oldest, Emmett, will be a senior this year like Jasper and I, although he’s a little older than we are, and that Edward and Alice are both a year younger. I know that they were all adopted, Edward as a toddler and Emmett and Alice when they were kids.

So maybe that’s it, I muse, maybe the Cullens just like taking in strays. Maybe they like the broken and damaged… After it happened and my life in Rochester went to hell, it was Dr Cullen who suggested to my dad that I come and stay with them and do my senior year in Washington. He said it might be good for me to start over somewhere new and get away from it all.

Get away from it all. Yeah, like that’s even possible. The cast is going to come off my arm soon and no one will ever know anything happened to me by looking at me, but the scars run so much deeper than the surface. I don’t know what’s waiting for me in Forks, but I somehow doubt that a plane ride across the country is going to be enough to leave my demons behind.

But in the end I agreed to go, if Jasper would come with me. Not that I had much choice really. Things in Rochester were impossible for me, so bad that even going to the other side of the country and starting my senior year at a new school, living with a family I barely knew, seemed preferable. Now that we’re into the reality of it though…I pull harder on my hair and glare at the dark green forest flying by outside my window.


	2. The Cullens

After driving for a couple of hours we stop at a diner that’s pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Jasper heads straight for the bathroom, but I sit uncomfortable in the booth with Carlisle and Esme.

“How are you feeling, Rosalie?” Carlisle asks, his voice taking on a professional note. “I’ve been in touch with your doctors in Rochester, and have had your medical records sent over. Everything healing?”

My whole body tenses and I stare at the table top. It’s been wiped recently and I can see the trails of moisture on the formica. I can’t believe he’s bringing it up so casually, but of course he and Esme know all about it, and he’s going to be my doctor here. I shove my arm below the level of the table so I don’t have to look at the cast and without meaning to I find my other hand creeping up under my tank top to touch the newly healed scar on my belly. “I’m fine,” I mutter.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Carlisle and Esme exchange glances. “That’s good,” Carlisle says easily. “I’ve made appointments for you at the hospital for Friday so we can x-ray and see how the fractures have healed, and assuming everything is looking good we can get that cast off. I thought you’d probably prefer to start school without it.”

Jasper slides into the booth beside me and we order. The food comes quickly, but I’m not hungry anymore and most of my sandwich remains untouched on the plate. I listen to the others talk but I don’t say anything until Esme mentions how excited her kids are that we’re coming, and that they’ve been looking forward to meeting us.

“What did you tell them?” I ask abruptly. “What did you say about why we’re coming to stay?” _What do they know about what happened to me?_

Once again Carlisle and Esme exchange glances.

“We didn’t tell them the details,” Carlisle says slowly. “They know that you were hurt, and that your father thought it might be better for you to do your senior year elsewhere. It’s up to you what else you tell them and others, if and when you decide it’s time.”

“But Rosalie,” Esme says softly. “You mustn’t feel that this is anything shameful, what happened to you. It’s not…”

“Excuse me,” I mutter, pushing past Jasper so fast I nearly fall into his half eaten burger. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

In the bathroom I lock myself in a stall and crouch on the toilet seat, bent forward with my head on my knees. My heart is thumping, and I wrap my hands over my head and shut my eyes, trying to breathe. _Everyone_ says that to me, that I shouldn’t be ashamed, it’s not my fault…but fuck them all. I feel what I feel, and I don’t want anyone in Forks knowing anything.

The others are just finishing up their lunch when I go back out to the table. Esme looks at me with concern, but I don’t meet her eyes. I tell Jasper he can eat the rest of my sandwich and he swallows it down in about two bites. Carlisle asks if we want dessert, but before Jasper can say yes (he’s never going to turn down pie) I shake my head. I don’t want to sit here and make awkward conversation anymore, I just want to get where we’re going and hide.

I put my headphones back on for the rest of the drive. The Cullens live just outside some small town in Washington called Forks, and the last part of our drive takes place in the Olympic National Park. I can’t get over how dense and mysterious this forest looks, with its soaring trees and endless green.  As we turn at their mailbox and bump down the long dirt driveway I wonder what it’s going to be like to live out here, and if the isolation is going to feel reassuring or menacing.

“Home!” Esme announces, and I hear the note of relief in her tone.

I don’t say anything as I step slowly out of the car and gaze up at the house. It’s incredible, all timber and glass that reflects the forest around it and completely huge. Dad always said the Cullens have real money, and looking at this house and the car we’ve just been driving in I can easily believe it.

“You’re here! Hello!” A girl bounds down the front steps and towards the car. She’s tiny, short and thin, with spiky dark hair and sparkling blue eyes. She’s wearing a black and white polka dotted dress that has a real 50s vintage look to it, and is beaming as she wraps an arm around Esme’s waist and leans against her, looking over at me. “I’m Alice, and I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you!”

Is she for real? Who in the world is that perky? But I give her a small smile in return and say, “Hi, I’m Rosalie,” before I head to the rear of the car, where Jasper is hauling our bags from the trunk. I sling my backpack over one shoulder and try and pick up my suitcase with my good hand.

“Rosalie, leave that,” Carlisle says. “The boys will get them for you. Emmett! Edward!” He raises his voice as he looks towards the house. “Some help please!”

I hear a muffled response from the house, and a moment later one of the boys comes down the steps. I wrap my arms around myself and tuck my hands into my armpits and look at him warily. He’s wearing jeans and a button down shirt and has the lean build of a runner, and his reddish brown hair looks like it hasn’t seen a comb since school ended, but he smiles easily and offers a hand to Jasper. “I’m Edward Cullen.”

“Jasper Hale,” Jasper answers. “And this is Rosalie.”

Edward lifts a hand towards me, but when I don’t make a move to respond he simply waves at me. “Hi Rosalie.”

“Emmett!” Carlisle calls impatiently.

“Yeah, I’m coming!”

Someone who must be Emmett comes out of the house, the front door banging closed behind him. He pauses on the step for a moment and grins down at us, and I feel like someone’s punched me right in the gut.

He’s _beautiful._ I don’t know the last time I looked at a person and felt this instinctive, overwhelming attraction to them, and it scares the hell out of me. _Emmett_ scares the hell out of me. He’s big, taller even than Jasper and broad to go with it, and as he jumps down the steps I can see the strength and power he has in that big body. He’s wearing shorts and sneakers without socks, and a t-shirt with a football team logo on the front and his hair is dark like Alice’s but curly. As he comes closer he smiles at me, and I see the deep dimples in his cheeks.

I back up until I’m pressed against the car. I can’t smile back at Emmett as he picks up my two suitcases without effort, even though he’s still looking at me.

“Are these both yours? I’ll take them upstairs?”

“Yes thanks Emmett,” Carlisle says. “Come inside everyone. Rosalie and Jasper, if you want to go with Alice and Edward they’ll show you to your rooms. You can unpack and settle in, or if you’re hungry you can come downstairs to the kitchen and get a snack.”

“Thanks,” Jasper said awkwardly, slinging his rucksack over his shoulder and lifting his camera bag. “We really appreciate it Dr Cullen…Carlisle.”

“Come on Rosalie!” Alice chirps. Before I can move she seizes my backpack from my shoulder and heads towards the house. “I’ll show you your room…it was the spare room but I did some decorating for you. I hope you like it, but if you don’t it doesn’t matter, we can redo it. That might be fun…”

Emmett’s disappeared with my suitcases, so I follow Edward and Alice and Jasper in to the house. It’s just as amazing inside, all light wood and steel and glass everywhere, decorated with rich looking rugs and modern, abstract art. There are professionally taken and framed family photographs lining the wall beside the staircase and I can’t help staring at them at I pass by.

“This is your room,” Alice pokes her head out of the open door and grins at me. “Come on in.”

The room is bigger than my room at home in Rochester. It’s carpeted in a plush cream carpet with cream painted walls. The curtains and the quilt cover are both dark forest green, with embroidered flowers in a riot of colour along the bottom edges. The furniture- a full sized bed with a nightstand, a desk, a bookshelf and a dresser with a mirror – is all made from a highly polished cherry wood and someone (I’m guessing Alice, who is bouncing on the end of the bed and looking at me hopefully) has strung fairy lights over the bedhead and put some flowers on the dresser and a couple of knick knacks on the shelves so that the room doesn’t look so bare.

“Do you like it? We bought the curtains and the quilt cover specially for you,” Alice says anxiously. “We can change it if you want…”

“Give it a rest, Alice.” Emmett backs out of a door that I guess must lead to the closet. “Give her a chance to even look at it!” He flashes his dimples at me. “I put your cases in the closet.”

“Thanks.” I mutter. As he moves towards the door I move away, keeping my back to the wall until I hit the desk. I reach behind me and stroke the smooth, polished surface. “It’s nice Alice, thank you.”

She beams and jumps to her feet. “I knew you’d like it! We’ll share this bathroom now.” She flings open the other door beside the closet and I see the bathroom, all tiled in grey and white. It has a double vanity and a big corner tub and shower, with the toilet behind the door. “I put all my things in the drawers on the right hand side so you can have the left,” Alice tells me. “The towels are in the cupboard under the sink, face washers and bathmats are in there too, just use whatever you need!” For a moment a fleeting look of doubt crosses her face. “I haven’t shared a bathroom for a long time, so I’m not sure how we’ll manage before school…we’ll work it out!”

Emmett, lounging against the doorframe, laughs at her. “You’ll just have to spend less time fussing over your hair, pipsqueak.”

“Oh, ha ha ha,” Alice pokes her tongue out at him. “Go away. Rosalie and I are going to unpack her things and we don’t need you around.”

Emmett grins at her amiably and vanishes, and I relax slightly.

“I share a bathroom with Jasper at home,” I say awkwardly. “It works out.” Most people look at me and think I must spend hours in the bathroom doing my hair and my face, but I really don’t. I _can_ , if I’m going out or want to look special, but I rarely wear make up on ordinary days and my hair doesn’t take a lot of maintenance.

“Want me to help unpack your things?” Alice offers.

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” Honestly I just want her to go away. I need to get used to this place. “Where’s Jasper?”

“Oh, down the hall,” Alice says. “My room’s on the other side of the bathroom obviously, and Emmett and Edward and Jasper have the rooms on the opposite side and will share that bathroom.” She stands up and smooths down her dress. “I’ll leave you to sort out your things, but just call out if you need something.”

Once she’s done I shut the door and take a deep breath. The bed looks so inviting with the fluffy quilt and multiple pillows, and I fight the urge to just crawl into it and shut my eyes. If I thought I might fall asleep I’d probably do it, but I know that there’s no way I’ll be able to relax enough to sleep in a strange house, with strange noises and smells. Instead I go into the walk in closet and start unpacking my suitcases, putting my clothes away neatly on the hangers and shelves and in the drawers, putting my laptop on the desk and the few books I’d bought with me on the shelves. I leave the bag with my makeup and bathroom things on the vanity for the time being.

The manilla envelope is in the bottom of the suitcase, under my shoes. I put it there yesterday when I was packing to leave, but seeing it still gives me a shock and I feel my heart start to pound. Why did I bring it with me? Why do I even have it…what’s the point in torturing myself? But like I can’t help myself I open it and fight against the growing nausea as I look at the photographs that are never going to have a place in my modelling portfolio.

“Rose? What are you doing?”

I jump a mile and shove the envelope back in the suitcase, snapping it shut and trying to swing it up onto the top shelf. I can’t do it with one hand and I swear as the case falls back, narrowly missing my head.

“What are you doing? Here, let me.” Jasper takes the case from me and easily slides it to the back of the top shelf, pushing the other one up after it and then looking at me. “You settled in then?”

I shrug. “I guess so. What about you?”

A ghost of a smile drifts across Jasper’s face. “I’m unpacked, at least.” We go back into my bedroom and he pokes around, pulling open the empty desk drawers and prowling over to look out the window. “This is nice.”

“Yeah.” I join him at the window and look outside. There’s a few feet of cleared grass surrounding the house before the forest looms up, looking thick and impenetrable. Even though I’m on the second floor and there’s no way anyone could get up to it, I find myself automatically checking the window lock.

Jasper sees what I’m doing. “I’m just down the hall,” he tells me softly. “If you need me I can be right here. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Silently I follow him down the hall. It’s easy to tell whose room is whose as I pass them. Alice’s door has an elaborate decorative panel with her name in painted wooden letters and glittery butterflies arranged on it, there’s a small woodcut with Edward’s name on it on the next door, and then the one beside it has a Forks high athletic pennant tacked up that I guess is Emmett’s. Then there’s a discreet sign on the bathroom door, and then the final door is Jasper’s room.

Jasper’s room is smaller than mine and painted a muted grey, but it’s got the same kind of furniture. I wonder if they went out and purchased it new for us and I feel another stab of guilt about how much the Cullens are doing for me.

Jasper is looking at me carefully. “It’s going to be okay here Rosalie.”

I nod bleakly. It _has_ to be okay here…what other choice do I have but to make it so? 


	3. Seeing Scars and Drinking Tea

Esme cooks a huge dinner. Roast beef and vegetables, a selection of salads and even homemade bread are all laid out on the eight seat dining table when Esme calls us down to dinner. I don’t know the last time I sat down to a home cooked meal like this.

Everyone serves themselves from the side dishes and Carlisle carves the meat and adds slices to everyone’s plates. I mumble thanks and then sit down quietly, but with the racket Emmett and Alice and Edward make talking as they eat my silence isn’t really noticeable.

I don’t eat a lot, picking at the small serving of vegetables I gave myself and nibbling at a piece of bread. As the three boys between them demolish the roast meat down to the bone and empty the vegetable platters, mopping up gravy with chunks of bread, and Alice eats more than I would have thought she could possibly fit into that skinny little body I don’t think anyone is going to notice, but I guess I’m not used to having a mother around, because Esme smiles at me gently and says quietly, “You’re not eating much Rosalie. Don’t you like it? You’re not vegetarian are you? Is there something else you would prefer?”

“No, it’s fine. I eat meat, it’s just that…I can’t…” My words trail off helplessly, as I lift my cast and shrug. I can’t use a knife and fork at the same time. There’s an uncomfortable silence at the table as Jasper mutters a quick apology to me and cuts my meat while everyone watches, and I feel my cheeks burn.

“When do you get the cast off?” Alice asks conversationally. “How long has it been on? It must be such a pain!”

“I should get it off on Friday,” I mumble. “It’s been on for nearly eight weeks, so it should be healed.” And the cast IS a pain. I can’t get it wet, and only having one functional hand makes a lot of things impossible. I don’t want to get into with Alice though, so I take a forkful of meat and stuff it in my mouth.

“Are you both settled in?” Carlisle asks.

“Please let us know if you need anything, of if we can help you with anything,” Esme adds. “It’s important to us that you feel at home here.”

“Thank you, we’re fine,” Jasper says courteously. “It’s good of you to do…all this.” His eyes flick towards me and I know the rest of them are looking at me too, but I just keep chewing and ignore them as best I can.

I wonder what it’s going to be like living in a house with so many people. My dad works so much that I’m used to it being pretty much just Jasper and I, and now I’m living here with five more people. The house is big and light and airy, but I’m uncomfortably aware of the presence of so many people.

I shower after dinner, going through the tedious process of wrapping the cast in plastic and using my teeth and other hand to fasten the rubber bands around my arm to hold it all in place, then struggling to wash and condition my hair with only one hand. It’s worth it though, as I feel the grime of the trip here wash away, leaving me all fresh and clean smelling.

As I step out of the shower though, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the full length mirror on the back of the door and I freeze. It’s the first time I’ve seen this much of myself naked since just after it happened. Back then I saw my whole body naked and smashed the full length mirror, swearing I never wanted to see myself ever again, but now I drop the towel and just stare at myself, at what’s left of me.

I must have lost twenty pounds since it happened, and that’s not a great look for me. My ribs are too obvious and my hipbones look almost painful, the way they’re jutting out against my skin. But all the bruising and swelling and wounds have gone and I’m back to looking just like I did before.

Almost.

Most of it healed so cleanly you’d never know to look at me that anything happened. There’s a scar right up on my hairline, but no one will ever see it unless they know where to look, and a narrow red scar on my upper belly where they removed my spleen that the doctors say will fade with time. There are a few small scars on my belly from the laparoscopes and a bunch of small scars on my back that are hardly noticeable and will probably disappear.

Then there’s _that._ I step close enough to the mirror that my forehead presses against it as I stare down at my breasts and the harsh, ugly purple crescent moon shaped scar that mars one now. A bite mark. It wasn’t even deep, and in the emergency of tending to my fractured skull and cheekbone and broken arm and ruptured spleen and stopping all that bleeding no one even paid it much mind. But despite all the antibiotics they pumped into me it got infected and became an abscess and now I’m left with this ugly scar as a permanent reminder of what happened. I lean harder against the mirror, feeling my breasts flatten out against the cold glass and watching as the scar meets its own reflection and then the two of them meld and disappear, and I close my eyes and wish I could disappear too.

I don’t even let my mind go to the other scars they left.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Jasper comes into my room before he goes to bed, finding me already in pyjamas and reading in bed. He’s smiling and despite looking tired he seems more relaxed than he has in a long time.

“I’ve been playing some video games with Edward and Emmett,” he tells me with a laugh. “It’s been good. You should come and play with us tomorrow maybe.”

“Maybe,” I say noncommittally. We both know I won’t.

“You’ll be okay tonight?” Jasper asks carefully.

I shrug. “Yeah. It’ll be fine.” I hope it is. I don’t know what I will do here if the dreams come when there is no Jasper just across the hall, when there are other people who might hear me screaming. I don’t want that.

Jasper hesitates. “Well, goodnight then. You know where I am…”

I nod, and try to smile. “Thanks. Goodnight.”

I can’t sleep though. I read with only half my attention, my ears straining to hear any sounds in the house. I listen as footsteps trudge up the stairs and then Jasper and Edward talk in the hall before doors open and close. I hear light footsteps as Alice hurries up the stairs and then I hear her in the bathroom and faint sounds as she moves around in her bedroom. Even when I eventually put my book down and turn out the light I can’t sleep. It’s too dark, and the house and surrounding forest is too silent and I toss and turn for hours, my arm itching under the cast and my mind whirling with thoughts that won’t let me rest.

Finally I can’t stand it anymore, and I slide out of bed and pad silently out into the hall and downstairs. The living room is lit by the flickering light of the tv that someone has left on, but the room seems deserted and I slip through it to the kitchen. I remember seeing a variety of teabags and an electric kettle in the butler’s pantry and I think with a little desperation that maybe there’ll be something there that might help me sleep.

“What are you looking for?”

I only just manage to bite back my scream as I whirl around. The wooden box holding all the teabags falls from my hand and crashes onto the tiles, breaking apart and sending the teabags scattering across the floor.

“Oh shit, sorry…I didn’t mean to scare you.”

It’s Emmett, standing in the door of the pantry and looking contrite. He squats down and starts gathering up the fallen teabags, and after a moment to let my thudding heart calm down I crouch down beside him and help him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and his eyes catch mine. “I thought you would have heard me coming. I just wanted to come and see what you were doing and if you needed anything.”

Hear him coming? He’s barefoot and he moves with a surprising amount of grace for such a big man- he could probably be a cat burglar if he wanted to.

I feel his eyes on me and I stand up and turn my back on him, placing the teabags on the counter with a shaking hand. I wish I’d worn a robe. My pyjamas are pale pink jersey cotton shorts and a matching pink and white tank top, but I’m uncomfortably aware that I’m not wearing a bra and it shows. I know he can see the way my nipples have gone hard in the cooler air in the pantry, and that when I was crouching down to help him pick up the teabags the shorts were riding up pretty high. 

 “I just wanted a cup of tea,” I mutter, adding accusingly. “What are _you_ doing sneaking around in the middle of the night?”

Despite my bitchy tone, Emmett laughs and I feel his arm brush against mine as he reaches past me with the broken box and places it on the counter. “I was just watching tv and thought I heard someone in here. You want something to eat with your tea?” He looks at the shelves full of healthy, organic food and grimaces. “Well, you don’t want anything that’s in here…Esme hides the good stuff.”

Emmett goes back into the kitchen and stretches up to open one of the high cabinets. His t-shirt rides up and I stare at the definition of his abs and the trail of hair running from his belly button down into the waistband of his shorts and wonder what it would feel like to touch him.

“When you’ve finished checking me out, I’ll have my tea black with sugar,” Emmett says casually, and feeling my face burn I go back into the pantry and take out a second mug for Emmett, wondering what on earth I’m doing as I make two cups of tea.

“Hey, score!” I hear the cabinet close. “I think Carlisle must have been doing good deeds…we’ve got peanut brittle and the fancy kind of chocolates that he’s always being given as gifts.”

I stir sugar into Emmett’s mug, and then carry the two mugs, one at a time, into the kitchen. Emmett’s sitting on one of the barstools pulled up to the granite counter, and I give him his mug and then take a seat on the barstool at the opposite end of the counter.

“Thanks,” Emmett says, accepting the mug and taking a sip. “Peanut brittle? Chocolate?” He slides the box along the counter towards me and makes a face. “Is this Esme’s herbal stuff?”

“I guess. It was labelled ‘Sleepytime tea’,” I answer, taking a sip and feeling the warmth start to spread. The tea smells good. I look longingly at the peanut brittle, which is one of my favourite things, but I doubt my teeth and jaw can stand up to the hardness so I take a chocolate instead.

“Having trouble sleeping?” Emmett asks.

I look at him sharply, but he’s drinking his tea and staring peacefully out the window. “You’re still awake too,” I point out, looking at the chocolate box and finding the strawberry filled ones. I suddenly feel hungrier than I have all day.

Emmett laughs lightly. “I like late-night tv. And it’s summer…may as well stay up late and then sleep late while I can. School starts next week.”

“Don’t remind me.” I look at Emmett out of the corner of my eye, and then swallow some more tea, thinking deeply. I was intimidated by him when I first saw him. His height and breadth and the careless strength of him had felt menacing, but somehow now, sitting beside him in the dim kitchen lit only by the light falling from the open door of the butler’s pantry, the last thing I feel is afraid. There’s something about his face, with his dimples and long sooty eyelashes and the full lower lip that makes him look young and almost innocent.

“You’re a senior this year, right?”

I nod. “Yes. You are too?”

“Yep. It’d be hard starting over at a new school for the last year,” Emmett says thoughtfully.

I shrug and take another chocolate. “Better than staying where I was.”

“Forks isn’t bad anyway,” Emmett says. “Our football team sucks, but there’s some good kids.”

 _Football._ I haven’t even thought about the fact that I’ve effectively given up my cheerleading captaincy by coming here, and if Forks high even has a team and would let a new senior try out they’re certainly not nationally ranked for competition. Not that it matters…do I really think I’d feel like cheering now? I scowl deeply and drink my cooling tea.

“Don’t you like football?” Emmett asks with a grin.

I haven’t missed a football game since my friends and I started going to high school games in middle school and crushing on the players. “No,” I say. “I don’t really like it.”

“Me either,” Emmett says. He notices my small start of surprise and laughs. “You assumed I played, right? It’s okay, everyone does. And I don’t mind messing around a bit, but baseball’s my sport.” He drinks the last of his tea, and adds absently. “Oh, and I wrestle.”

I just about choke. _Wrestling?_ Who _does_ that?

Emmett’s watching my reaction with amusement. “You think wrestling is funny?”

I blink at him innocently. “I think it’s…you _really_ do wrestling? Like rolling around on the floor groping other guys? And you wear one of those…things?” The idea of Emmett in skintight lycra has my cheeks feeling hot and I’m glad it’s too dim for him to see me blushing.

“A singlet? Yes, I wear one…and I rock it out, I’ll have you know.”

I can’t help it, I start laughing like I haven’t done in weeks, and Emmett grins back at me and picks up the empty mugs and puts them in the sink.

“Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to see me in it one day,” he tosses over his shoulder as he heads towards the living room, pausing in the doorway to look back at me for a minute. “Hey, Rosalie?”

“Yeah?”

“I like the way you laugh.”


	4. Reminders

I sleep in a little after not falling asleep until so late. After washing my face and brushing my hair I dress, and then pause in the doorway, listening to the noises from downstairs. I can clearly hear Alice’s high voice and bubbly laugh, and more subdued tones that might be Esme and Edward. I can’t hear Jasper and I’m hesitant to go down without him, so I hurry as silently as possible down to his room and peer in. The curtains are pulled back and his bed is empty. He’s even pulled the quilt up and straightened the pillows. I can’t help but grin, wondering how long this abnormal tidiness is going to last.

I can’t resist peeking into the open doors of the other bedrooms as I walk downstairs. Emmett’s room is dim with the drawn curtains, but I can see enough to recognise that he’s a bigger slob than Jasper usually is. There’s stuff everywhere, and in the middle of the mess he’s still sleeping, sprawled diagonally across the bed with the quilt wrapped around his shoulders and his bare feet sticking out the end. I move on quickly.

Alice’s room is a riot of colour and personality. At first glance it looks chaotic, but then I realise that it’s really artfully decorated and the whole thing works to create a space that’s bright and welcoming. She has so many things- books and ornaments and stuffed toys and pictures and photographs and knickknacks and souvenirs. My curiosity is aroused and I step in to the empty room to look at the photographs that cover the pin board. They date from elementary school right up to recent times, all these photos of a beaming Alice with friends and family- going out, staying in, on holidays, in a cheerleading uniform, at school, camping, hiking…I wonder, a little wistfully, how Alice and I might have got along if we’d met under different circumstances.

In contrast to the other rooms, Edward’s room is very neat. His bed is made and the enormous collection of books and cds and even vinyl records that I can see from the doorway are neatly arranged. I bet he alphabetises things. He has an enormous and expensive looking stereo system and an electric keyboard set up under the window. I would go in and look around further but I hear a muffled groan and a thud from Emmett’s room and I remember that I’m not alone up here and flee downstairs.

“Good morning Rosalie!” Esme greets me cheerfully when I step cautiously into the kitchen. I can smell coffee, and the delicious scent of frying bacon and I wonder how much cooking this woman does.

Jasper’s certainly appreciative. He’s sitting at the kitchen table with a breakfast sandwich in his hands- hunks of homemade bread stuffed with what looks like egg and cheese and ketchup and half a pig worth of bacon. I don’t even think I could get the thing in my mouth. He makes an inarticulate grunt which is the closest he can get to hello with the mouthful of food he’s working on.

Edward is finishing off a similar looking sandwich beside him, and Alice is sitting behind an empty plate and drinking coffee out of a ‘born to shop’ mug. Esme’s plate is empty too, and she rises to her feet and places it on the counter when I come in.

“Breakfast, Rosalie? Do you want some bacon? Eggs? French toast?” she offers. “Bacon and egg sandwich like the boys?”

“You don’t have to cook for me,” I say. “I can get something.” I’m not used to having someone fuss over me, and I don’t think I’ve had a cooked breakfast at home since my mom died. Jasper and I have always existed on cold cereal and microwave oatmeal.

“I don’t mind,” Esme says brightly. “Everything is already out and it will only take me a minute.”

Jasper manages to swallow. “She likes bacon, maple syrup, peanut butter and banana toasted sandwiches,” he tells Esme. “If you can bring yourself to make something that looks so revolting.”

Everyone laughs and I roll my eyes impatiently, but I can’t deny that Jasper is right. I think everything tastes better with peanut butter on it, and the sandwich that Esme hands me a few minutes later is a culinary work of art.

“Alice, would you go and wake Emmett please?” Esme asks. “I want to clean up the kitchen so he needs to come down and eat breakfast if he wants it. And you’ll all be back at school in a few days, he needs to come back to earth and start getting up in the morning and actually going to bed before dawn.”

“Do I have to? He’s horrible to wake up. Esme, you know that…” Alice groans, but slips out of the kitchen obligingly enough.

A moment later there’s an unearthly shrieking and thumping from upstairs. Jasper and I both look up in alarm but Edward just chuckles as he carries his plate to the dishwasher. “Well, that sounds like it went well.”

Alice appears again in a moment, smiling and apparently unruffled as she pours herself another coffee and sits back at the table. “He’s coming,” she says sweetly to Esme.

Emmett shuffles in a moment later, scowling mutinously. He’s only wearing a pair of shorts slung low on his hips, and once again I am swamped with the desire to touch him. I turn my head away and let my hair fall forward to shield my face as he drops into the chair beside me with a groan.

“Why do I have to get up? We’re not back at school yet.”

“Bacon and eggs for breakfast?” Esme asks, ignoring his moaning. “And next time can you remember to dress yourself before coming downstairs please?”

Emmett sighs heavily and leans forward onto the table, pillowing his head on his arms, his face turned to me. He gives me a sleepy smile and murmurs, “But Rosalie likes to look at me, I’m adorable.”

I don’t think anyone else hears him, but I snort. He’s so outrageously full of himself! I take my empty plate over to the sink, almost surprised to realise that I’ve eaten the whole sandwich.

“Good girl,” Esme says to me approvingly. “A few more meals like that would do you the world of good. I spoke to your dad Rosalie, and he said you haven’t had a chance to do any back to school shopping but that he gave you a credit card? I thought perhaps you and Alice and I could go shopping today? I’m sure you’ll need more clothes than you were able to bring on the plane.”

I nod. I realised when I dressed this morning how sparse my wardrobe is here, but I hadn’t wanted to bring many of my old clothes with the memories that were attached to them. The idea of buying new clothes for this new life appeals to me. “That would be great actually. I do need a lot…do we go shopping in Forks?”

Alice laughs. “Not unless you want to buy hiking clothes from Newton’s! We’ll go to Port Angeles. Can I invite Bella? She’s my best friend,” she explains to me.

I shrug. I don’t care if Alice brings friends. Esme tells her it’s fine if Bella comes, and Alice grabs her phone to make a call.

“I’m assuming none of you boys want to come?” Esme asks the three boys still sitting around the table. “You’re more than welcome of course.”

“No thanks,” Edward says.

Jasper looks at me and lifts an eyebrow, but I shrug and he smiles at me and shakes his head at Esme. “No, I won’t come. But if you can pick me up a couple of notebooks for school Rose, that would be good.”

Emmett’s eyes are closed as he rests on the table, but he rouses himself as Esme places a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him and, after a jaw breaking yawn that shows me that he’s got three silver fillings in his back molars and apparently had his tonsils removed at some point, he starts eating. “Thanks Mom, this is great,” he says through a mouthful, and Esme affectionately runs a hand through his mop of curly hair.

“You’re welcome, Em. And I’m sorry you had to wake up, but you need to get back into a normal schedule before school goes back.” It’s obvious how much she loves her kids, and I feel the same sense of emptiness I have always felt when I’m in the presence of families who are close and loving.

Alice skips back into the kitchen. “It’s all set, Bella’s dad is going to drop her off in half an hour, so we can plan to leave after that. I’m just going to run upstairs and have a quick shower. If you don’t need the bathroom Rosalie?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m good.”

While I’m waiting, I prowl around the lower level of the house. Alice showed me around yesterday, hastily before dinnertime, but now I take my time and really look.

I think I could love this house. With all the timber and glass opening up to the forest outdoors it’s light and cool and airy, with furniture that manages to look both stylish and yet comfortable enough to settle in to. There’s a lot of art scattered throughout, modern paintings and beautiful sculpture mixed in with antique curios, but it doesn’t give the impression of being a museum either. I’m sure that all these things were chosen with deliberate care and mean something to the people who bought them. Even with all that, the house exudes warmth and it’s obvious that a family live here. There are framed photograph everywhere, music books with pencil notations and dog-eared pages piled on the grand piano in the living room, a basket with yarn and something half knitted in it beside the sofa. The books on the shelves in the study are an eclectic collection and look well-read, there are piles of battered boxes containing board games on the lower shelves too, and rows of leather bound photo albums.

As well as the spacious living room and the study, this floor also has the kitchen, the dining room, a luxury powder room, and Esme and Carlisle’s bedroom suite, which I don’t go in to. There are also steps going down to the next level which, due to the house being built into the hill, is a half basement room, so I step down them to see what Alice referred to as ‘the rec room’ in her brief and incomplete tour. The enormous room does have a pool table, but it’s also a nearly fully equipped gym and dance studio. The floorboards under my bare feet feel ideal for dancing, and there is a barre along one mirrored wall. The half of the room that doesn’t have floorboards is carpeted and holds the pool table, a treadmill, elliptical machine and stationary bike, as well as both weight machines and free weights. All the equipment looks top of the range. There are two open doors in the far wall and I can see through to a bathroom and a laundry room.

I lightly hold the barre and almost automatically begin going through my stretching exercises. Twelve years of ballet lessons have left the routines ingrained in me, and even though I’ve focussed more on cheer and gymnastics in the last few years I still like the classical ballet warm ups I grew up with. This is the first time I’ve done any stretching since it happened, and my muscles feel tight and stiff as I move through the positions and do my plies.

“Rosalie, should you be doing that?” It’s Esme, coming down the steps with a basket of laundry in her arms. Emmett’s behind her carrying another two baskets, and I feel my face flush as Esme goes on, her tone concerned. “Has your doctor given you the okay to start exercising yet?”

I let go of the barre and wrap my arms tightly around myself. “Not yet.”

“Well, maybe you should wait and talk to Carlisle?” Esme suggests. “You don’t want to rush into anything you’re not ready for.”

I shrug and turn away, moving quickly back up the stairs to the next level of the house. I’m not quick enough though that I don’t see the curious look Emmett throws at me and hear his low voiced question to Esme. “It’s not just her arm then?”

I’m already tense from that interaction with Esme, and when I reach the living room and see through the window that there’s a police car and a man in uniform out the front talking to Alice, I feel like I’ve hit breaking point. The memories come back, all the _questions_ and being made to _talk_ …I don’t know if I’m going to throw up or start screaming.

“Rosalie.” It’s Jasper, standing as close to me as he can without touching me, his voice low and soothing. “Breathe Rosalie, just breathe…it’s okay. That’s just Bella’s dad, Alice’s friend Bella…he’s got nothing to do with that. Look at me…Rosalie, come on, look at me…”

I force myself to look at him, and his familiar, concerned face calms me as only he can. The tight bands of fear around my chest loosen a fraction and I struggle to take deeper breaths and stop the panicked gasping.

“That’s just Bella’s dad,” Jasper repeats. He’s so close to me that I can smell the clean scent of his deodorant and clothes, and his blue eyes look into mine intently. “He gave her a ride over so she can go shopping with you. It’s okay Rosalie, you’re okay…” He holds up his palm and I press mine against it, the only way I can stand to let him touch me anymore even though I know he would love to hug me like he used to. 

I manage a deep, shuddering breath and feel the terror recede. _I’m okay. That cop isn’t anything to do with me. I’m okay._ Jasper nods at me reassuringly, and after another moment I gently tap his fingertips with mine and let my hand drop.

“Thanks,” I whisper. I’m so lucky to have him- I don’t know how I would have got through the last eight weeks without him. He’s always been the more sensitive and placid one of us, always much steadier and more sensible than me, and since it happened I sometimes think that the emotional stability he offers me is the only reason I haven’t fallen completely apart.

Jasper nods. “It’s okay,” he says. “Why don’t you go upstairs and find your purse, you’ll be leaving soon.”

I take another deep breath and look away from him, only to feel my heart clench as I realise Esme and Emmett are standing at the top of the steps to the rec room and they’ve heard everything. With a face like stone I flip my hair back and walk as quickly as I can up the stairs and down the hall to my room.

I came here to get away, but how can you get away from what’s poisoning your own heart?


	5. Girls' Day Out

“Alice, you didn’t tell me she looked like a supermodel! Honestly, how I am supposed to go shopping and try on clothes today with someone who looks like _that_ right there?”

In the bathroom I pause, the brush caught in my hair as I listen to Alice and her giggling friend. The two of them have just come clattering upstairs and into Alice’s room, and now they’re talking about me.

Alice laughs gaily. “Oh Bella, you’re beautiful too! Although I do admit Rosalie _is_ gorgeous.”

“I’ll say. I didn’t know people could look like that in real life! I bet the boys were drooling.”

“Oh, Emmett was just _embarrassing_!” Alice said derisively. “You know what he’s like- put something blonde with boobs in front of him and the big dope loses his mind.”

“What about Edward?” Bella is trying to sound careless but even I catch the edge to her voice. What Edward thinks of me matters a lot more to her than Emmett’s opinion of me does.

“Oh, Edward…maybe if Rosalie draped herself over his piano he’d pay attention!” Alice laughs again. “Bella my darling, I’ve told you before, Edward isn’t like other boys. He’s not going to have his head turned by any random pretty girl…even one who looks like Rosalie. He’s going to open his eyes and see you one day, I know he will.”

“I don’t think that’s so likely with Rosalie living in the next bedroom,” Bella says glumly.

Slamming my hairbrush down loud enough that they’ll know I’d been in the bathroom listening to them, I stomp back into my bedroom. I hate feminine judgement of me based solely on the way I look! Insecure girls who look at me and decide that I’m a bitch, or a slut out to steal their boyfriends, or that I’m trying to make them feel ugly or inferior…all because of some random combination of genes that have given me this face and hair and body that people consider beautiful.

In my room I look for my bag, checking that I’ve got some cash and the new credit card dad gave me in my purse, and then I go downstairs. Jasper meets me at the bottom of the staircase, holding a Ziploc bag that holds what I eventually identify as the shattered remains of my phone.

“Here,” he mutters, dropping it into my bag. “Get yourself a new phone today. You’ll need it once school starts.”

“I like not having a phone,” I say rebelliously.

A brief look of impatience crosses Jasper’s face before he laughs. “Get one anyway,” he orders. “I _think_ they can salvage the SIM card from that, but you can always get yourself a new number with your new phone if you want.”

I take the broken phone from my bag and hold it out until Jasper takes it from me. “I’ll get a new phone with a new number,” I say to him quietly. “I’m starting over…I don’t want anything from Rochester here.”

Jasper nods slowly, and for a minute his palm touches mine. He understands that I’m talking about so much more than the phone itself. I smashed the phone myself after it happened, unable to bear the endless stream of phone calls and texts and pictures that were constantly invading my broken heart and mind, shattering what little was left of my world. So much trust lost. Since then I’ve held myself aloof- no phone calls or text messages or emails, no Facebook or Twitter or instant messaging. Just me, safe in this self-imposed isolation.

“Come on girls,” Esme calls. “We need to get going. Boys…behave yourselves! Call me if you need anything.” She kisses Edward on the forehead as she passes him, and waves to Emmett and Jasper. I follow her and slide into the front seat of the Audi that’s parked out on the driveway. A moment later Alice and Bella jump into the backseat, slightly more subdued now.

They take me on a quick tour of Forks, and it’s easy to see why we’re not shopping here. The place is so small! There’s the single high school, the middle school and the elementary, the police station, the hospital and medical clinic where Carlisle works, a couple of churches, a few stores and businesses. There’s several boutique hotels and bed and breakfast places, and Esme tells me that people come to stay for the fishing sometimes. A lot of people are employed by the prison system. Everywhere we drive in town we can see the forest.

“That’s it?” I say, a little blankly as the town is left behind and Esme speeds up for the drive to Port Angeles.

Alice giggles. “Yes, that’s all the sights and excitement of Forks!”

“Wow,” I say, trying to think of something to say. “It’s, um…small.”

“Carlisle likes small town doctoring,” Esme says with a laugh. “The clinic and the hospital serve the town and the surrounding area, so it’s more people than it looks like. There’s also the Quileute reservation to the west, and Carlisle was excited to have the opportunity to do some work there when the job here in Forks came up.”

“How long have you lived here?” I ask uncertainly. Esme is so chic and stylish and their house is so sophisticated in design that neither would be out of place in New York. I wonder how she feels about living in the backwoods.

“Just over two years,” Esme answers. “We moved in just before Alice and Edward started high school.” She glances in the rear view mirror and smiles at Bella. “Unlike Bella, who was born here, I think we’ll always be considered outsiders.”

Bella blushes. “I’m kind of an outsider too though,” she says. “After all, I _left._ My parents divorced when I was little,” she tells me, and I can tell by the slightly strained note of friendliness in her voice that she’s uncomfortable over what I heard her saying earlier and is trying to make amends for it. “My mom took me with her to Phoenix and I lived with her there until last year. She got remarried and I thought I’d try living with my dad for a while so I moved to Forks. Dad’s the police chief here.”

“I guess this is pretty different to Phoenix,” I say.

Bella shrugs. “Yeah. I really miss the sunshine,” she says ruefully. “I’m _never_ going to get used to Forks’ rain! I miss my mom too, of course, but it’s been really nice to get to know my dad a bit better. Mom and I left when I was so young, I don’t remember ever living here full time until now.”

“Well, I’m glad you came back!” Alice says, giving her a friendly poke on the arm.

“Who needs to buy what today?” Esme asks.

“Well, I’ve done all my back to school shopping that’s absolutely _necessary_ ,” Alice says mournfully, before adding cheerfully. “But of course, if the best mommy in the world wants to buy her baby girl some lovely new clothes anyway, I won’t say no! There was a rather divine pair of boots that I saw last time and didn’t buy, but they really would go well with SO much in my wardrobe, really be an absolute _investment…_ ”

Esme chuckles. “Nice try, little minx! You can show me though, and we’ll see. Bella, do you need anything?”

Bella shakes her head. “No, not really, I’m just looking. I wouldn’t mind going to the bookstore though.”

Alice sighs dramatically. “Bella, Bella, Bella…back to school shopping is for _clothes._ You know, those things you wear? That can come in forms other than denim jeans and t-shirts? There actually ARE different fabric patterns besides plaid if you open your eyes and look around!”

I can’t help laughing at Alice’s look of despair and Bella’s long-suffering sigh. It’s clear just from looking at them that their views on clothes don’t exactly match- Bella’s wearing blue jeans, a white scoop neck t-shirt and a pair of battered Chucks, while Alice is wearing a short skirt, strappy sandals and a pink wraparound shirt.

Alice leans forward to the front seat, resting her chin on her folded hands as she looks at me imploringly. “Please tell me you like clothes Rosalie. You do, don’t you? You’re going to look at pretty things and cute things and fashionable things with me today, aren’t you? And let me help choose outfits?”

“Alice,” Esme admonishes. “Settle down.”

“It’s okay,” I say, looking at Alice. “I like clothes, and I hardly brought anything with me so I’m going to need to get everything. I’d love some help.”

I can already tell that Alice has an innate sense of fashion and flair for styling, and I’m happy to talk clothes with her. I’ve always loved shopping with my friends, I enjoy clothes and dressing up to look good, but I’m not very creative with it. The way I look has always garnered enough attention without adding flamboyant or outlandish clothes.

Alice grins at me in delight. “Oh, it’s going to be fun! Even if you can’t try some things on over the cast…it’s coming off before school though right?”

“If it’s all healed,” I say into the sudden quiet. Just the mention of the cast has brought down such an uncomfortable silence as everyone is reminded of what happened to me. “I’m having x-rays tomorrow.”

“Is it your wrist or hand?” Bella asks in her soft voice. “Was it a break or a fracture?”

The tension in the car is almost palpable as Esme and Alice wait to see how I’ll respond to direct questions. For a moment I wish fiercely that Jasper was here, or that I was somewhere else, but I force my face to remain impassive and my voice even as I reply. “I had a distal break in the ulna – that means in the arm bone, down near my wrist- as well as a fracture in one of the metacarpal bones of my hand, and three broken fingers.”

I realise as I say it that I’ve never had to describe the injuries. That the doctors communicate via their reports and photographs and x-rays and I have just been the passive recipient of their attentions. It has always been someone else telling _me_ about the ways in which I’ve been broken and damaged…I’m surprised to discover that listing off the injuries in emotionless, clinical language doesn’t hurt the way listening to someone else describe me does.

 Bella blanches. “Oh god, ouch. That sounds excruciating. I’ve broken a finger before – I’m horribly clumsy, I slammed it in a car door – and that was bad enough.”

“I broke my leg once,” Esme says with a giggle. “I fell out of a tree.”

I can’t help laughing myself. The idea of Esme, sleek, well put-together Esme climbing trees and falling out of them is kind of amusing. At the same time I wish I had such an innocent story as to how I got hurt…no one really wants to hear about breaking your bones the way mine were broken.

“I need a new cell phone too,” I say, remembering.

“Oh, that reminds me I have to get something for Emmett’s birthday,” Esme says with a sigh. “I thought I’d replace his ipod…he’s been without one since he stood on it earlier in the summer. He might have learned his lesson about taking care of his things after being without it so long…”

Alice snorts. “Yeah, right…Emmett taking care of his things, that’ll be the day.” She shakes her head. “However I do think buying him a new one is a good idea, since it will hopefully stop him borrowing mine!”

“When is his birthday?” I ask curiously.

“Saturday,” Alice tells me. “He’ll be nineteen. I bought him a pair of socks,” she adds with a giggle. “Which I know is terrible, but it’s all he deserves…last birthday he bought me _soap_. Can you believe that? Not even nice soap, just a rectangle bar of soap from the grocery store!” She rolls her eyes as Bella and Esme laugh.

I smile too and wonder if I should buy him a gift too. But I quickly discard that idea- I don’t even know him and wouldn’t have a clue what to buy him. But even as I think that the image of him, bare-chested and sleepy and beautiful sitting at the table that morning, rises up in my mind and I can feel my belly fluttering. _I want to know him._

The shopping trip is fun. Port Angeles is hardly New York City, which is where I usually do my back to school shopping, but it doesn’t really matter. Between what I find and all the outfits Alice drapes over me and convinces me I need, I come close to hitting the limit on the card, and in the Apple store I buy myself a shiny new iphone before we head for home.

Bella, Esme and I are quiet on the way home. I think the others are tired, and I know I am. The shopping was more physical activity than I’ve done since it happened, and eight weeks of lying in bed hasn’t done my fitness level any favours. I scratch at the skin around the edges of my cast and think over what I bought. I’ll need to go back and buy some more winter clothes in a month or two, but I’ve got enough to start school with.

“You really need a car to get around here, don’t you?” I say thoughtfully. I think about the distance to Forks from the house, and realise I’m not even going to be able to get to school without being driven. Here I won’t have friends to give me rides, and mom’s old convertible is still sitting at home in the garage since there was no way it was going to make the cross country to drive to Forks. “I should talk to dad about that.”

“The kids generally use the Volvo for getting to and from school,” Esme says quickly. “When I don’t need it they’ll drive this one too. There’s Emmett’s Jeep as well, and Carlisle drives the Mercedes to and from work. We manage to juggle rides fairly well, and we’ll make sure you and Jasper get where you want to go too.”

“Thanks,” I say slowly, “But it would be nice to have something of my own. Jas and I have been driving Mom’s old convertible sometimes- it’s in pretty bad shape, but I love it. I asked Dad if he’d pay to do it up for my birthday, and he said maybe he would…maybe he’ll do it a little earlier.”

“My friend Jacob and his buddies are good with cars,” Bella volunteers from the backseat. “He keeps my truck going.”

“Bella drives a 1953 Chevy truck,” Alice informs me. “It’s an absolute tank.”

“Yeah?” I say, suddenly interested. “So your friend knows about older cars?” I twist around in my seat to look at her. “My mom’s is a ’69 Camaro.”

“You’re in to _muscle cars_?” Bella says in disbelief.

 _What, because girls like me aren’t supposed to be in to the classics?_ I raise my eyebrows and say icily, “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing!” Bella says hastily, “Nothing at all! I bet Jacob and the other guys will love it…if you want I can ask him.”

“That would be great,” I say slowly. “I’ll talk to my dad about getting it here, I think. If that’s okay, Esme?”

“Whatever you want, sweetie,” Esme says. “There’s room in the garage.”

I sit back against the soft leather seat and imagine my mom’s beat up old car made shiny and new again, the powerful engine tuned, giving me the freedom and independence here that I’ve been afraid I might have lost forever. I look out the window at the forest racing past in a green blur and I give a small smile. It seems there are still things to look forward to, even now.


	6. Doctors and Demons

“Rosalie!” It’s Emmett, shouting my name through the lower level of the house. I’m packing the dishwasher in the kitchen after breakfast, and even though I don’t answer him, a moment later he bounds in from the living room. “Hey, there you are. Are you ready to go? Esme had an emergency at work and had to leave already. But she said you’re meeting Carlisle at ten and I’m supposed to drive you.”

“I can drive myself,” I say sullenly, closing the dishwasher.

Emmett doesn’t take offence at my tone, instead he just grins at me and tosses me a set of keys which I catch automatically with my good hand. “That’s cool. You can drive me then,” he says breezily. “I need a few things in town. I’ll meet you out in the garage.”

Shaking my head as he disappears, I reluctantly pick up my purse and jacket from where I left them on the table earlier, and trudge out to the garage. The last thing I want to do is go to the hospital and have to endure the medical checks Carlisle has scheduled for me.

Out in the garage I press the remote unlock, and it’s the raised red Jeep with the spotlights and enormous tyres that beeps and flashes its lights. I look at Emmett and raise my eyes. “ _That’s_ yours? Figures.” The thing’s obnoxious- it looks like it would be at home on the moon.

“Don’t hate on my Jeep,” Emmett says, opening the door for me with a wicked grin. “She’s awesome…you can drive a stick shift then?”

“Yes I can,” I snap, before I remember my cast. “Not with this thing though,” I mutter sulkily, slapping the keys into Emmett’s hand and stamping around to the passenger door.

Once I’ve managed to haul myself up I pull helplessly at the tangle of straps that seems to take the place of a seat belt. Emmett chuckles as he reaches over to me. “It’s an off-roading harness,” he tells me. “It’s safer when you’re driving over rough terrain, and that’s mostly what I got her for…here, grab that bit for me.”

I tense as he pulls the straps across and buckles them, but he’s careful not to touch me and when he’s finished he sits back and smiles at me with a smile of such endearing sweetness that I smile back. _He’s so beautiful…please don’t look at me like that._

We don’t talk much on the way. Emmett’s a more careful driver than I would have expected, and I’m too anxious over what’s coming up to make small talk. It feels all too soon that we’re pulling into the parking lot of Forks Community Hospital.

Emmett jumps down from the Jeep and comes around to my side, opening the door for me while I’m still struggling with the buckles on the harness. When I finally get it undone he’s standing waiting patiently, and the height of the vehicle means that for the first time ever I’m not looking up at him.

Emmett looks up at me thoughtfully for a moment, and when he speaks his voice is kind. “Come on, I’ll take you through to Carlisle’s office.”

I simply nod, not sure that I would trust myself to speak even to ask for directions, and follow Emmett’s broad back through the main entrance and down a wide corridor to double swinging doors marked ‘Community Clinic’. I have to fight my urge to run as Emmett holds the door for me.

The receptionist greets him with fond familiarity. “Emmett! I didn’t know you had an appointment with your dad today! How have you been going over the summer? Did you make it to the baseball camp? You know Andy is dying for you to come down to the park and play again sometimes!”

“I’m good thanks Jean,” Emmett grins. “I did get to camp and I’ve got lots of new stuff to show Andy and the other little guys next time. And I don’t have an appointment with Carlisle today, I just bought Rosalie for hers because she didn’t know which way to go.”

“Oh of course. Well, you would be Rosalie Hale, then?” Jean gives me a friendly smile and hands me a clipboard and a pen. “Since you’re a new patient we need to get you into the computer system, so if you could just fill this out dear. You’ve got your insurance card and things? Okay then, just bring it up to the desk when you’re finished.”

I take the clipboard and walk over to the waiting row of chairs. There’s a lot of people waiting, mainly elderly people and moms with kids, and I feel uncomfortably conspicuous.

“You want me to stay?” Emmett asks quietly. “I don’t mind, if you want company.”

The look of concern he wears is genuine, but I shake my head. I don’t want Emmett to see me here, in the hospital, where I’m back feeling like a terrified victim. So I start filling out the forms with my name and information and say carelessly, “No, I’m fine. I’ll be a while, you go and do whatever you have to do in town.”

“Okay.” Emmett hesitates for a minute, rocking from foot to foot. “I’ll give you a ride home when you’re done,” he tells me finally. “Just text me when you’re ready.”

“Bye.” I don’t look up, and a moment later I hear his footsteps leave. I finish filling in the forms and then take them up to the counter, bracing myself for what lies ahead.

Carlisle is a good doctor, and a thorough one. When I see him he has all my medical records from Rochester, and gives me orders for repeat blood tests and x-rays. A nurse takes me to pathology and then directs me to the x-ray department, where they scan my arm, hand and fingers, skull, face and ribs before sending me back to Carlisle in the clinic. After what feels like an interminable wait I’m called into his office, and I go in and perch uneasily on the chair beside his desk.

Carlisle smiles at me, looking friendly and relaxed as he clicks through several screens on his computer. I can see ghostly grey outlines of my bones. “We won’t have the blood test results for a few days, but I don’t think you need to worry too much about them,” he tells me. “You were treated prophylactically, so that should have taken care of any problems. I’ve got your x-rays here now and that’s all looking good. Ribs, cheek, arm, hand and fingers are healed, and your skull is well on the way. I consulted with one of the specialist orthopaedists on staff and he agreed with me that the cast can come off, and in terms of the breaks and fractures you’re cleared to resume normal activities for the most part. No contact sports for another few months to give your skull time to heal completely, and be sensible. I don’t know if you were planning on trying out for cheer leading here…?”

I shake my head.

“Okay, well never mind.” Carlisle picks up the phone and speaks to someone briefly, and then gives me a smile. “They’re waiting for you down in the fracture clinic to take the cast off. If you go and do that then come back here and we’ll finish up.”

A student doctor takes my cast off, cutting it away with a circular saw that looks like it could take my arm off if he slipped. He blushes as he holds my hand and makes jokes that I can’t laugh at as he cracks away the cast.

My arm feels so strange without the hard shell of fibreglass it’s been encased in for the last nearly eight weeks. It feels light and fragile, as though it might break again at any moment, and I can’t help the look of distaste on my face as I take in how thin and flaky and dirty my skin looks.

“It’ll look like the other one in no time,” the doctor says. He wipes the arm down with wipes that smell like alcohol, gently turning and flexing my wrist as he does so. “Does it feel okay? No pain?”

I shake my head. I hated the cast, but having it removed has made me feel oddly naked and vulnerable. Even walking back to Carlisle’s office I cradle it protectively in my other hand.

“I bet that feels better,” Carlisle says cheerfully when he calls me in again. He too takes my arm and manipulates my wrist and fingers gently. “It’ll take a little while to feel normal again, but probably not as long as you expect. If it starts aching we can strap it for you, to give it a bit of extra support, but we’ll leave it for now. I’m sure you can’t wait to go home and have a shower without having to put your hand in a plastic bag.”

I can’t deny he’s right about that.

“Okay, just a couple more things. How’s your surgery site? You’ve had no trouble with that? If you want to just pull your t-shirt up, I’ll take a look.”

My heart is thumping, but I stand up and lift my t-shirt up to reveal my belly. “That all feels normal,” I say, glad when my voice doesn’t shake. “I haven’t had any trouble with that healing.”

Carlisle probes at my scar with cool, gentle fingers. “It’s healed up really nicely, and that scar will be barely noticeable in time. I’ll just take a look at the other one…” I stare past his shoulder, pretending I’m somewhere else as he lifts my t-shirt a little higher and pulls down my bra cup so he can see the bite scar on my breast. “There’s no discomfort associated with that?”

When I shake my head he releases my clothes and I immediately tug everything back into place and sit down, my arms folded defensively across my chest. Carlisle sits back in his chair and taps his desk thoughtfully. “I’m not an expert in scar reduction, but they may be able to do something for that. I know an excellent plastic surgeon and I can arrange for you to have a consult with him and find out your options. It may involve another surgery, or laser treatment to minimise the scarring.”

“Not now,” I say, my voice a little hoarse. As much as I hate that scar the idea of having to show it to strangers and having surgery on my breast to try and remove it is too much for me right now.

“There’s no rush,” Carlisle agrees. “I would recommend waiting several more months to see how it does on its own first. Okay then,” he looks back at the computer, his eyes scanning the reports he has up on the screen. “I’m going to need to do a pelvic exam now Rosalie, and then we’re done.”

I don’t say anything but I don’t move either, and the look Carlisle gives me seems laced with pity. “I’m sorry, I understand that it’s difficult, but I need to check that everything there has healed as well. I’ll get the nurse to come in…”

“No!” I’m on my feet, kicking off my shoes and yanking down my jeans with fingers that fumble with haste before he can finish. “I don’t want anyone to… _watch_ … _”_ The words choke me.

“Okay, that’s fine. Whatever makes you more comfortable. Lie on the table and put your feet up.”

Carlisle turns his back. I don’t put on the paper gown he has on the end of the bed but leave my t-shirt on as I scramble up and throw the sheet over my legs. He has a mobile hanging up over the bed, a fancy version of what people put over babies’ cribs, and as I lie back I stare at the delicate paper fish as they seem to swim around each other.

“Try and relax Rosalie,” Carlisle says. “I don’t want this to be any harder than it already it is…let me know immediately if something is uncomfortable, or if you want to take a break.”

I can’t relax, but I cross my forearms over my face so I can’t see him and bite my lip so I don’t make a sound. Below the scent of the cleansing wipes I can still smell the sour, rotten smell of the arm that’s just been cut free of the cast pressed against my nose, and I don’t know if it’s that or the feel of Carlisle’s impersonal hands that’s making me want to vomit.

“All done,” Carlisle announces, pulling off his gloves and handing me some paper towel so I can wipe the slippery goo off me. “You’ve healed beautifully Rosalie, your doctors in Rochester did an excellent job. You can get dressed again now.”

I don’t think I’ve ever put my jeans on as quickly as I do then. Despite scrubbing between my legs with the rough paper towel the gel Carlisle used for his examination still feels damp and sticky between my legs and I know if I don’t get out this office soon I’m going to throw up.

“We’ve taken care of everything then, Rosalie,” Carlisle says to me with a smile. “As I said, you still need to take a little care with your skull, but in other respects you’re free to resume your regular activities. The only other thing I wanted to talk to you about was getting you into some good talk therapy. One of the therapists here at the hospital has a lot of experience counselling survivors and I think she’d be a great choice for you…”

“No.” I move towards the door, shaking my head in agitation. “I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but no. Just…no. I’m not going to therapy.”

Carlisle frowns a little. “Your father and Esme and I all think it would be a good idea…” he begins.

“Yeah, well I don’t,” I say flatly. I reach the door and grip the handle tightly. “Not a good idea, not now…I just want to settle in to school and being here and…” I don’t finish either. What am I supposed to say? I want to just forget about it? I want to pretend that nothing happened to me? All of these are true, but as I let myself out of Carlisle’s office and hurry down the hallway towards the exit I know that I’m just kidding myself. I can pretend and ignore all I like, but nothing is going to change the fact that it happened.


	7. Emmett's Story

Out in the sunshine I slow down, and when I get to the Jeep I realise I have no keys, and climb up to perch dispiritedly on the hood. Less than ten minutes later Emmett comes jogging through the parking lot, talking on his phone.

 “Yeah, it’s okay. She’s here at the Jeep.” Emmett pauses and nods. “Sure. Okay, see you tonight then.” He drops his phone into his pocket and leans against the Jeep. “You want to go home?”

 _Home._ I wish I knew where that was. “Yes please.”

Emmett doesn’t take me straight home though. Instead he pulls the Jeep in beside the diner and looks at me. “Carlisle said you didn’t have any lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“But I am.” Emmett looks at me pleadingly. “You should eat. Esme gave me money to treat you, and she’ll be mad if I don’t do it. Please…you wouldn’t make me get in trouble.”

Oh, those dimples! I hesitate for a moment and then acquiesce. “Okay.”

The diner is busy, and there are several people around our age sitting and eating. They call out enthusiastic greetings to Emmett and he replies to them, but I’m relieved when he heads past their table and slides into a booth down at the end. I can feel the curious stares on me but I just walk straighter and don’t look around as I sit opposite him and pick up a menu.

“Hi Emmett, long time no see.” The waitress is our age, and she smiles flirtatiously at Emmett as she gets out her pencil and order pad. “Do you know what you want?”

“Hey Cara. I’ll have a burger and fries, thanks. And a chocolate milkshake. Rosalie, what do you want? The burgers are really good here.”

The waitress narrows her eyes slightly. I can tell she’s not happy to see me sitting here with Emmett, and she’s already looked at my blonde hair and big boobs and made up her mind about me. I give her a cool smile. “I’ll try the burger then. And a diet coke, thank you.”

She sashays off to the servery and I raise my eyebrows at Emmett. “Girlfriend of yours?”

Emmett grins sheepishly. “Nah, just a girl from school.” He fiddles with the salt cellar. “Are you okay then? After this morning I mean. I see they took your cast off.”

“Yeah.” I wiggle my fingers. “It feels weird actually. But I’m glad it’s gone.” I laugh. “I can’t wait to do something to my hair besides brush it!”

“It looks good like that,” Emmett says, and I notice the faintest pink flush on his cheeks.

“Thank you.” I give him a small smile. It’s funny how good I suddenly feel, sitting here surrounded by strangers who know nothing about me. I think how it must look to them…just a girl in jeans, sitting here and laughing with this good looking boy who clearly thinks I’m pretty. I smile at him. “So is this like, the hang out or something?”

Emmett chuckles. “It’s Forks…there’s not a lot of choices. But you can walk here from school and the burgers are good.”

We make small talk until the food arrives, and then Emmett’s too busy eating to talk for a little while. He’s right that the burgers are good, and although I can’t eat it all I make a good dent in it before I push it across to Emmett. “You can finish that if you want to…” Jasper always eats whatever I can’t, and looking at the size of Emmett I’m guessing he must eat a similar amount.

“Thanks, I will.” He accepts it unselfconsciously and I watch him as he devours it. I realise that I like watching him eat. I like the way he concentrates on what he’s doing and enjoys his food.

“What?” he asks me as he swallows the last mouthful. He wipes his mouth with a napkin and looks down at himself. “You’ve been staring at me for five minutes…have I spilled something? Got something in my teeth?”

“No,” I shake my head and fiddle with my napkin. “I was just wondering…can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“How come you’re almost nineteen, and just about to start your last year of high school?” I feel a slight flush of embarrassment at being so nosy when so far I have barely given him the time of day, but Emmett doesn’t seem too bothered.

“Oh, that. It’s no big thing- you know I was seven when the Cullens adopted me, right? I didn’t go to school before then, so I couldn’t read or write or anything. I was really small too, so when they enrolled us in school they put Alice in kindergarten with Edward, and me in first grade. They thought I’d find it easier to fit in that way.” He laughs. “Of course I was only little because I’d never had enough to eat and I grew about a foot in six months once they started feeding me, but you know…their intentions were good.”

“How come they adopted you?” I ask hesitantly. The Cullens seem so privileged, and yet Emmett spoke so casually of not having enough to eat. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine,” I add hastily.

Emmett shrugs. “I don’t mind. It’s not any kind of secret…it’s the usual story. We lived out country in Tennessee, my momma was a part time hooker, part time junkie and my dad ran off sometimes after I was born. Alice was born when I was about three. When Momma was okay things were good, and when she wasn’t I took care of Alice as best I could, and when things got bad we’d go and stay with my grandma. After Grandma died though we didn’t have any place safe to go, and then momma’s new man started dealing meth and momma was either high or hooking, so eventually the county got involved and took me and Alice away.”

“That’s not exactly a ‘usual’ story!” I say, a little shocked.

Emmett laughed. “No, maybe not,” he conceded. “But it’s my story…it’s what I know. I find it harder to imagine being born with a silver spoon in my mouth like you and Jas and Edward were.” He winks at me.

“How did you come to the Cullens, then?” I ask, since he seems open to talking about it.

“Esme worked at the food pantry in town,” Emmett says reflectively. “My momma used it sometimes and Alice and I would go with her. Esme would always talk to us and give us something extra in the food boxes, or something else. She gave Alice a dress once, when she needed one. When things got really bad at home and Alice got hungry I went begging there by myself. I made up all kinds of crazy stories about why we were there without our momma, and Esme pretended to believe me and made us sandwiches.” He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “Like I said, I didn’t go to school and after my grandma died Alice and I pretty much never saw anyone except junkies getting their fix and momma’s johns. Esme was like the only normal person I ever spoke to, and the only person who didn’t treat me and Alice like we were scum just because of what Momma did.”

“What happened?” I breathe. I’ve never heard a story like this- we don’t have the money the Cullens have, but I’ve grown up in a world of solid upper middle class privilege. I know about booze and party drugs, not meth and prostitution.

“Esme contacted child services when I started showing up at the food pantry on my own too often. But no one came out to investigate until one day Alice got into something she shouldn’t have from the kitchen,” Emmett says matter-of-factly. “Keeping in mind they were cooking meth in there and no one ever did any cleaning it’s a miracle neither of us had done it before. But Alice got bad sick. Momma was too out of it to do anything and I didn’t know what to do…all I could think of in the end was going and asking Esme to help. Luckily she was working at the food pantry that day. She kept me with her and sent Carlisle with an ambulance and the police. That was pretty much it- we didn’t go home after that. Esme and Carlisle had adopted Edward about a year and a half before that and had all their paperwork in with child services so it was pretty straightforward for them to be approved as foster parents for us. Momma could have got us back, but she didn’t follow any of the conditions so the courts terminated her rights and Carlisle and Esme petitioned for adoption.”

 “That’s horrible,” I say softly.

Emmett smiles, and shrugs a little. “That’s life, you know? Sometimes awful shit happens. And sometimes good things happen too…we came to Carlisle and Esme and Alice doesn’t even remember anything about Tennessee. As far as she’s concerned she’s always been Alice Cullen and that’s the way she wants it.”

“She doesn’t remember any of it?”

“No,” Emmett shakes his head. “She knows what happened, but she was only four and whatever she took that made her so sick at the end messed her up for a little while. They think that probably even wiped out a bit of her memory. Like I said, she likes it that way. There wasn’t anything good about Tennessee for her.”

“But you remember?”

“Oh yeah. I was seven when I came to Carlisle and Esme, and it wasn’t all bad before that. I loved my grandma, and when Momma wasn’t too fucked up on drugs we had some fun.” He looked at me steadily. “She wasn’t a bad person. She just…made some bad choices, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” I say awkwardly. I don’t know if it’s the right thing to say, but it’s all I can think of. I _am_ sorry that he has had to go through all that in his past. My childhood wasn’t perfect, not with my mother sick on and off from the time I was six until she died when Jasper and I were eleven, but Emmett has suffered in a whole different way.

“That’s okay. It is what it is, you know? I can’t change it now.” Emmett swallows the last of his milkshake. “And it wasn’t always easy, but my life is good now. I’ve been lucky.”

That’s what they all said to me when it happened. That I was _lucky._ Lucky that they didn’t scar my face, lucky my skull fracture didn’t require surgery, lucky that they found me and got to the hospital as quickly as they did, lucky that I didn’t _die…_

I don’t feel lucky.

I push the thought away and then focus on Emmett. “What happened to her?” I ask hesitantly. “Your mother. Do you know?”

“She died. Only a few months after the adoption was finalised. It was the drugs…it was always going to happen that way. She’d been using since she was a teenager, and my grandma once told me that the longest she’d ever been able to stay clean was about a year, when I was a baby. After that she managed a few months here and there, but she always went back to it.” Emmett frowns, a little tiredly. “I don’t think about her much. I think it’s sad, that she wasn’t strong enough to beat it. And I’m really glad that Alice and I got away from that and that Carlisle and Esme took us in. They’re good people Rosalie…really, they are.”

I nod slowly acknowledging his point. They’ve been more than good to take Jasper and I in like this, and I haven’t exactly made it easy for them so far. Thinking deeply, I reach for my purse and begin counting out money.

“No, I’ve got it.” Emmett pulls out his wallet. “Seriously, Esme gave me cash for this. Put yours away…save it for next time you take me out to lunch.” He reaches across and covers my hand with his, and for a moment I am aware of nothing but the feel of his skin on mine.

I pull my hand away. “You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

Emmett laughs and stands up, taking my hand again and pulling me with him. “I just tell it like I see it,” he says teasingly. “Come on, we pay up front.” He’s still holding my hand, towing me along, as he walks up to the counter and passes the money over to the man there with a few laughing words. He drops the change in the tip jar and takes a handful of mints from the bowl then leads me outside, and somehow his hand, big and warm, keeps holding mine and this time I don’t pull away. 


	8. Off-Roading and Manicures

“I can’t believe you drive this monstrosity,” I say to Emmett, as the Jeep speeds us towards home. “You don’t consider it just a _little bit_ attention seeking?” At least this time I was able to buckle myself in without his help.

Emmett laughs. “Have you ever done any off-road driving?”

“No,” I say haughtily. “I drive on roads like civilised people do.”

Emmett roars. “You don’t know what you’re missing! It’s so much fun!” He eyes me speculatively for a moment, and then gives me a devilish grin that makes me narrow my eyes in suspicion.

“What?”

“Just going to take you a different way home,” Emmett says breezily, and half a minute later he takes a sharp left and I scream as the Jeep bounces through what I’m sure is uncharted forest and Emmett whoops with glee.

“Emmett, you fucking maniac, _STOP!”_

Much to my surprise he does stop, easing off the accelerator and letting us coast to a stop. I take a deep breath and unclench my hands from where I’ve unconsciously clutched at the harness, wincing a little as I feel small jabs of pain in the hand that’s only just come out of the cast.

“Are you really scared? Or are you just being hysterical?” Emmett says calmly.

I take another soothing breath and look through the windshield. I realise that Emmett hasn’t just taken us blindly into the forest but that we are actually on a road…or at least, I think that’s what the potholed, overgrown track the Jeep is sitting on is supposed to be.

“You didn’t exactly give me any warning,” I mutter stiffly.

“I can take us back to the road,” Emmett says. “Just say the word and we’ll go back- I won’t make you go this way if you really don’t want to. But if you’re game I’ll take you home this way and then you’ll understand about the Jeep.”

I hesitate. “You’re seriously not trying to kill me?”

“I promise,” Emmett says solemnly, his dimples deepening with his grin. “We’ll just take some of the old logging tracks home. I’m a good driver and it’s safe, honest.”

“Okay then,” I say with a resigned sigh. “I’ll give it a try.”

“You won’t be sorry.” Emmett shows me where to hold on if I want to and then leans across and tightens the harness. He’s so close to me I can smell the mint on his breath and my skin breaks out in goose bumps just at the thought of his skin brushing against mine. I hope he doesn’t notice. The last thing Emmett’s monumental ego needs is for him to think I’m attracted to him!

“Ready then? Okay, let’s have some fun.”

And for all my hesitation, Emmett is right- it IS fun. I’m half giggling and half screaming as we bump and crash our way through the forest, and Emmett can’t stop laughing.  It’s fast and wild and feels dangerous, and I’m almost sorry when the logging track ends and we’re back on the proper road.

“So you liked it?” Emmett’s eyes are sparkling as he looks at me. “You gonna admit my Jeep is beautiful?”

“Maybe,” I concede, giving him a sideways look.

Emmett grins at me wickedly. “Admit she’s beautiful and next time I’ll let you drive!” He turns off onto the Cullens’ driveway.

I laugh and throw up my hands. “Okay! I was wrong about your Jeep! And I really want to drive it!” I grimace and cradle my bad hand in my good one. I was so hyped up on adrenaline that I hadn’t noticed how much I was using it to hold on, and now it’s throbbing.

“You didn’t hurt your arm, did you?” Emmett looks at me in concern. “Do you need to show Carlisle or something?”

“No!” I say sharply. Today, in the diner with Emmett and now driving home, is the first time since it happened that I’ve felt normal and I am loath to let that go. I don’t want to hear that note of concern and pity from Emmett that I have heard from so many others- I am so tired of being treated like I am something fragile! “My arm is fine!” I try and lighten my voice. “So…when do I get to drive this beast?”

“Next time,” Emmett says, in the sudden silence that rings out loudly when he shuts off the engine. “You can drive next time. There are lots of other really awesome places to drive that I can show you.”

He’s looking at me intently, and I think that there are probably a lot of other things beside off-roading that Emmett wants to show me, and my heart beats faster at the thought of it.

 _What are you doing to me? How can I want you now?_ With fumbling fingers I tug at the harness, glad when it unbuckles and I can shove the door open. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, sliding gracefully down from the Jeep. For a second, before I turn and hurry into the house, I raise my eyes and look at him. _I wish I could explain to you…I wish I understood myself._

  The garage opens into the kitchen, where I find Alice earnestly painting Esme’s nails while the two of them sit at the table. “Hey, you’re back!” she says brightly.

“Rosalie, how did it go?” Esme asks. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take you in myself, but I had to go in to work. It all went well?”

“Yes, thank you,” I murmur. I’m still holding my arm, and a little self-consciously I let it drop.

Emmett comes whistling into the kitchen from the garage, heading straight to the fridge. He takes out a half full gallon jug of milk and starts chugging it down.

“Well that’s wonderful!” Esme beams at me. She blows on her nails. “Thank you Alice.”

“Want me to do yours?” Alice asks me eagerly.

“Maybe later.” I see Alice’s face fall and I feel a stab of guilt. She’s trying so hard to be nice and be my friend…why am I being such a bitch? “I just want to have a shower,” I say quickly. “I need to scrub this arm now that the cast is off, and wash my hair using two hands…after that?”

When her face brightens I know I’ve done the right thing. I hurry upstairs and into the bathroom where I take a beautiful long shower, washing and conditioning my hair with two hands, soaping and rubbing my arm until all the smell of sweat and pain and victimhood are gone. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so clean.

I dress in some of my new clothes and braid my hair, just because now I have two hands and I can, although by the time I tie the end of it my recently healed hand feels like it’s being stabbed through with bolts of pain. But I look at myself in the mirror with satisfaction.

_That’s me. I’m still Rosalie, and I’m still beautiful and even if I came here to run away, I’m going to make it work for me here._

“Rosalie?” It’s Alice, knocking almost tentatively at the door. “Do you want me to do your nails now?”

“Sure.” I follow her back down to the kitchen.

With a happy bounce, Alice directs me to sit at the table. “Your new shirt looks so good!” she says, flipping open the small suitcase that was sitting there and waving to the contents with a flourish. “What colour do you want?”

I cannot believe the army of nail polish bottles she has collected in there. I haven’t seen so many different types and colours together outside of a department store. “I have no idea,” I say. “That’s…completely overwhelming.” I look down at my ragged nails with a bit of embarrassment. “My nails are a mess.”

“Well, Alice to the rescue,” she says cheerfully. “I love doing manicures!” Her hands are gentle as she takes mine. “They’re not too bad anyway, they’ll shape up nicely.”

She hums as she works, and I find myself relaxing. My friends and I used to go and get manicures and pedicures all the time. “Thanks for this,” I say quietly. I look at the nails she has filed and smoothed into shape. “I haven’t touched them since…for weeks. I ripped a couple of them right down, and then with my broken hand I couldn’t really do anything.”

“Well, they look fine now,” Alice says, moving on to the second hand. It’s the one I broke, and she’s extra gentle as she turns my fingers and runs the file along them.

I bite my lip for a moment. “What have you told your friends about me being here?” I ask quietly.

“Nothing very much,” Alice answers. “Can I do some nail art on you?” When I nod she begins painting my nails with a black, shimmery polish with the faintest trace of glitter in it. It looks like the night sky. “I think with most of them I just said you and Jasper were coming for your senior year. I told Bella you’d been hurt, but actually Mom and Dad didn’t really tell us a lot about that anyway.” She looks at me solemnly, but with a spark of mischief in her eyes. “I had to promise that I wouldn’t ask you about it. I can tend to be a little…curious?”

I can’t help laughing. Curious…I can already tell Alice is the kind of person who prides herself on knowing everything about everyone. “Please don’t tell anyone else at school,” I say softly. “I don’t like people knowing. It makes them treat me differently…they ask too many questions and look at me like they’re waiting for me to break down at any minute. I hate it.”

“I haven’t been doing that, have I?” Alice asks anxiously. “I know I’m not the most tactful person in the world and I have to admit I _do_ want to know, even though that’s probably horrible of me!”

I shake my head. “No, it’s been pretty good here. You and your family…it’s good.”

Alice is carefully painting a tiny planet in the centre of each of my galaxy painted nails. “I’m glad you came. I always wanted a sister, and I think it’s going to be so much fun to have you here. Jasper too.”

I notice a slight pinking of her cheeks as she mentions my brother’s name, and I wonder what’s going on there. Jasper’s not bad looking and he’s never had any trouble attracting female attention when he wants it…it looks like Alice might be adding her name to the list.

  The door to the garage opens and Carlisle comes in, frowning. “Rosalie,” he says to me, “Did Emmett drive you home through the forest?”

“Yes?” I say uncertainly. He doesn’t look happy.

“Emmett!” Carlisle bellows, and then comes over and tilts my face so he can peer into my eyes. “Are you okay? That was…Emmett!” He turns around as Emmett comes up the steps from the basement and glares at him. “You went off-roading? How could you be so irresponsible?”

“What?” Emmett looks at me, baffled. “Just on the logging tracks back home…Rosalie…”

“Has a fractured skull!” Carlisle finishes furiously. “Do you have any idea what you could have done?”

“I didn’t know!” Emmett yells back, flinging a glare at me. “No one told me!”

Carlisle looks at me sternly. “Rosalie, I told you it was okay to resume normal activity, but within reason! Off-roading with Emmett hardly comes under that heading…” He shakes his head. “Nothing happened in the Jeep? I know how Emmett can drive...” He looks into my eyes again and, knowing what he wants I open them wide so he can see my pupils are reactive to light and then track his finger.

“Hey!” Emmett sounds offended. He scowled at me. “You should have said something.”

I jerk my chin out of Carlisle’s hand. “I’m fine. It was my fault- I could have said something but I just didn’t think. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Okay,” Carlisle holds up a placating hand and smiles peacefully. “I probably overreacted, but we’re supposed to be looking after you. You just need to take it easy Rosalie…ease yourself back into things. And in case I wasn’t clear enough, that means no off-roading, no cheerleading, no gymnastics, no contact sports in gym…nothing where you risk impact on your skull. Not for another month or two. Understand?”

“Yes,” I muttered sulkily.

“Good.” Carlisle ruffles Alice’s hair. “How are you, pumpkin? Where’s your mom?”

 “I’m good, and Mom’s in the laundry,” Alice says, and with another smile Carlisle heads downstairs.

Emmett leans against the counter and frowns at me. “You should have told me you had a fractured skull,” he muttered. “I’m not an idiot, I wouldn’t have taken you out if…”

I roll my eyes. “Fractured skull, fractured cheekbone, fractured metacarpal, breaks in the ulna and three of the phalanges, two cracked ribs, ruptured spleen and other internal bleeding,” I spit at him. “There. Now you know everything…happy now?”

Emmett blanches, and I wish I could take it back. This is exactly what I was just talking to Alice about, and it’s not Emmett’s fault. I’ve let my temper get the better of me again, and now the memory of the wild ride through the forest and all that laughter is spoiled.

Besides, that list of injuries that I just hurled at him? It’s not everything.

 Alice’s eyes are huge as she carefully swipes a clear coat of polish on each nail. “Well, I did say I wanted to know…” she murmurs comically, and suddenly I slump back in the chair and sigh.

“I’m sorry,” I say to Emmett, and I do mean it. “I didn’t think, that’s all. Everything is pretty much healed, I’m just supposed to be careful for a little bit longer.” I look down at my nails. “I thought this afternoon was really fun.”

Emmett lifts up his hands. “It’s okay. Carlisle will get over it when he realises I haven’t given you brain damage or something. Unless…?.”

“No!” I glare at him as he flashes his dimples and laughs, leaving the room as I fight to hide my own grin. Jackass.

Alice shakes her head and screws the lid back on to the nail polish. “Emmett is impossible sometimes….do you like your manicure?”

The nail art is beautiful, a whole solar system across my hands, and I’m genuinely impressed. “It’s brilliant.”

“Thanks.” Alice starts packing away her many implements. “Anytime. And Rosalie…”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry that you were hurt,” she says in a rush. “That sounds really painful and horrible, and I know I’m not supposed to talk about it so I won’t…but I just wanted to say that I had no idea it was that awful. And you don’t have to worry about anyone at school knowing anything, none of us will say anything and I’ll tell Bella to keep quiet too. It will be okay.” Without waiting for a response she picks up her nail polish suitcase and flits from the room, leaving me alone. 


	9. What Happens at Night

That night the nightmares come back with a vengeance. I don’t know if it was the medical check-up with Carlisle that has brought it all back, or that I’m starting to let my guard down here, but the dreams come back with all their horror and fear and I wake up screaming.

“Rosalie! Wake up…Rosalie!” It’s Jasper, crouching at the side of my bed so his head is on a level with mine, his voice tight with concern. “Hush…it’s fine, just wake up!”

The quilt has tangled itself around me and I fight to free myself, panicking at the sensation of restraint. I’m sobbing, on the borderline of a total panic attack, and then I see beyond Jasper to the dark figures clustered in the doorway, _watching me…_

“Jas, Jas…oh god, stop it stop it stop it stop….” My sobs rise to another scream as I kick futilely at the quilt that now seems like it’s threatening to strangle me until Jasper grabs it and yanks it out from where it’s caught.

“Rosalie, breathe…oh hell…it’s fine Rosalie, just breathe…” Jasper tosses the quilt to the side and switches on the lamp beside the bed. “Look at me, I’m here, you’re fine…”

I can’t breathe. The terror has taken over and my heart is racing. It feels like iron bands are wrapping themselves around my chest, constricting my lungs, and even when I see that it’s only Emmett and Edward and Alice in the doorway, awoken by my screaming, it makes no difference. The bile is rising and I think I’m going to choke on my own vomit. Jasper is talking to me, trying to calm me down but nothing is working.

“I’ll get dad.” It’s Alice, sounding scared, and I shake my head as I hear her footsteps pattering down the hallway to the stairs.

 _No, please no, I don’t need him. I just need to_ breathe, _oh I can’t do this…_  I don’t want Carlisle, I just want them all to _go away_ , but oh god I can’t breathe and it’s all fading…

“That’s it Rosalie, just breathe…you’re doing fine.”

I hear Carlisle through the darkness and feel someone touching my forehead with cool hands. I keep my eyes shut, all my focus on trying to force air through my constricted lungs.

“Good girl Rosalie, you’re going to be fine. It’s just a panic attack. I know it’s scary, but you’re not in any danger. Just breathe, and try and relax…Jasper, do you know if she has any meds for this?”

“No, she doesn’t.” I hear Jasper and I move my hand blindly in his direction, feeling my breath coming a little easier as he grasps my hand. “She hasn’t been this bad in a while,” he adds softly.

I’m breathing again, and my heart doesn’t feel like it’s going to jump right out of my chest, but I can’t stop the tears that are running down my cheeks from under my closed eyes. I hate this so much! I hate feeling out of control, I hate feeling so afraid… _I hate that they’ve all seen me like this._ “Go away,” I whisper hopelessly. “Leave me alone.”

Someone wipes the tears from my face, but I still don’t open my eyes.

“Back to bed you three,” Carlisle says quietly. “Rosalie’s fine- it was just a nightmare.”

I hear murmuring voices as Edward, Emmett and Alice move away from the doorway, and when I know they’re gone I force myself to sit up. Between the adrenaline and the hyperventilating I can’t stop shaking, and as the cool night air hits my sweat drenched skin I start shivering.

“Are you feeling better now?” Carlisle asks.

Esme is sitting on the edge of the bed beside Carlisle. She’s holding a handkerchief, and I realise that she was the one wiping my tears and stroking my forehead. She reaches down and picks the quilt up from where it has slithered to the floor, laying it gently over me. “Don’t get cold.”

“I’m okay,” I mumble. “I’m sorry.” I’m mortified that I’ve disturbed everyone’s sleep like this. For a brief moment I lean into Jasper and let him hold me, absorbing some of his inner strength since all my own seems to be gone. He squeezes my hand and pulls the quilt tighter around me.

“Don’t worry about it sweetheart.” Esme strokes my hair. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine now,” I force myself to sit up straighter and brush my hair away from my face as I struggle to take in some deep, even breaths. “It was just a nightmare, that’s all, and then I woke up and panicked.” It sounds so simple…how can it cause such terror?

It takes a little convincing, and Carlisle insists on taking my pulse to make sure it’s slowing down and I’m not about to stroke out, but Esme and Carlisle finally leave and then it’s just Jasper. He sits on the bed with his legs crossed, and looks at me steadily.

“I’m okay now,” I say softly. “Thank you for coming in.”

“You really going to be okay?” he asks.

I shrug bleakly. What’s okay now, for me? “Yes.”

“Do you want me to stay? I don’t mind.”

“No, you go back to bed. I’m okay now, really.” I do my best to smile at him, and eventually Jasper heads back to bed.

“I’m just down the hall,” he tells me, hesitating in the doorway. “If you need me…”

Once he’s gone I strip off my pyjamas, which are damp and clammy with sweat, and pull on a pair of yoga pants and the NYU sweatshirt I stole from Jasper two months ago. It’s big and baggy and the soft, worn cotton feels safe and familiar.  I know I won’t sleep anytime soon so I grab my quilt and slip silently downstairs, curling up in an armchair and flipping on the giant plasma tv. It’s not until the first light of dawn begins brightening the sky outside that I relax enough to doze off.

The familiar music and deep tones of Alex Trebek break into my awareness and I wake up. It’s later in the morning, I can hear noises from people in the kitchen making breakfast, and Emmett is sprawled out on the sofa watching Jeopardy.

“What is…a Mustang,” Emmett calls at the tv.

I glance at the clue on the tv. “What is a Corvette,” I correct.

Emmett glances over at me, his eyebrows raised. “You think you’re right about…oh! Well, there you go.” He grins at me sheepishly.

I grin at him smugly. “I know my cars.”

Emmett laughs. “I don’t. I suck at Jeopardy.”

He’s telling the truth- he does suck at Jeopardy. Or at least he knows nothing about classic cars or modern literature, which are the Jeopardy categories we’ve got left. He doesn’t mind looking the fool though, and makes wild guesses which make me laugh, even as I show off and answer correctly.

Emmett keeps looking at me, and I’m uncomfortably aware that I’m wearing my sloppiest clothes and have matted hair from sleeping in an armchair. I surreptitiously wipe my eyes to make sure there’s no gross crusty things glued to my face and tuck the quilt in. I don’t know why I care what he thinks of me…he’s wearing sweatpants with holes in the knees and a t-shirt that says ‘ _Meat is Murder…delicious, delicious, murder’_ across the front. Back in Rochester I wouldn’t have even _looked_ at him.

Emmett wriggles his feet at me, and I notice that he’s also wearing bright pink and green striped socks. “Like my new socks? Alice gave them to me for my birthday.”

I laugh. “Oh yeah it’s a really stylish look…it’s going to look great with your wrestling spandex.”

Emmett clutches his heart in mock pain. “You hurt me, you really do! And you’ll eat your words when you see me looking fine in my singlet.” He bursts out laughing, and I giggle too.

“Happy birthday, anyway,” I say. “Nineteen…quite the man of the world. And wearing the socks to prove it.”

“Well, that’s what I get for gifting soap,” Emmett sighs. “I should have known Alice wouldn’t forget about that. But thank you for my birthday wishes. And now look, it’s the sports category on Jeopardy…I’m going to kick your butt here.”

The two of us play along with Jeopardy, and I’m actually feeling good when Jasper comes in. He’s talking on the phone, and he passes it across to me with a grimace. “It’s dad.”

I make a horrible face at Jasper, and unwillingly take the phone. This isn’t going to make my day any better. “Hi Dad.”

“Hi Rosalie.” I can tell by the echo that he’s got me on speaker phone and I guess he’s at the office. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Taking care of yourself? Dr Cullen’s taken a look at you?”

“Yes,” I mutter, rolling my eyes at Jasper. “The cast is off, I’m _fine._ ”

“Good, good, that’s good…” Dad is hardly paying attention. I can hear his secretary talking in the background.

“Dad,” I say, “I really want the car out here…can you get it here?”

“What’s that?”

“Mom’s car,” I say, fighting for patience. “I want it. Alice says she knows someone who can do it up for me. Can you get it out here?”

“Don’t you want something new?” Dad asks vaguely. “I could put a call in to a dealership over there…”

“No, I want the Camaro. If you can get it sent here, I can organise getting it fixed up. Dad…this is important to me. Dad? DAD?”

“What? Oh, sorry Rose, things are crazy here right now…the Camaro, right. It’s still in the garage at home.”

“I know!” I have to force myself not to shout. “I want you to get it shipped out here to me, here in Forks, at the Cullens’ house! You know, where I’m living right now?”

The man runs an international finance house…how can he not follow a simple conversation?

“Calm down Rosalie. There’s no need for rudeness.”

I want to hit something. “Dad. I’m trying to…can you please ship the Camaro over here to me? Please? I really want a car here.”

“Right. The convertible…I’ve written a note and I’ll look in to sorting that out for you.”

“Thank you!” I suck some air in through my gritted teeth. “Well, good to talk to you. I’ll be going.”

“Yes, I’m pretty swamped with work at the moment. But oh, Rosalie!” Dad suddenly sounds more alert than he has. “I’ve been talking to a lawyer about a pursuing a civil case. You’d be entitled to a lot of compensation…”

“No!” I can feel the iron bands of panic tightening around my chest. “No! What are you talking about? I never said I wanted to do that!”

“Oh Rosalie,” Dad says impatiently. “Of course you want to! You know what that asshole is worth, and a few years in prison isn’t going to mean anything when he comes out to that trust fund!”

“No, I don’t want to!” I stand up in agitation and start pacing across the floor. “Dad, please!”

“It’s not a point for discussion, Rose,” Dad snaps. “You’re a minor and I’ll file on your behalf. I know you’re still feeling a bit sensitive, but you’ll see that it’s the right thing to do. I’m doing it for _you_. You deserve to get something out of this mess. Now look, I’ve got say goodbye now, I’ll see about getting the car sent.”

Furious, I hang up the call and slam the phone down onto the table. Jasper winces at the noise and snatches it back, checking to see if it’s broken.

“Rosalie,” he sighs. “You can’t let him get to you like that. It’s not worth it.”

“Did you know?” I demand, my voice shaking. “Did you know that he’s filing a _civil suit_ on my behalf? He thinks that’s going to make it _better!_ ”

Jasper’s jaw clenches. “I didn’t know. Can he really do that?”

“Apparently.” I realise I’ve tangled my hands in my hair and I’m pulling on it hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. I let my hands drop as I look up at Jasper helplessly. “He’s going to do it whether I want him to or not. He’s after the fucking trust fund…” My voice trails away, as the thought of going to court invades my mind and I slump back into the armchair. I can’t do this, there is no way…he can’t be allowed to do this.

“Did he say _why_?” Jasper asks. “I mean, going to court…”

 “He thinks I _deserve to get something out of this mess._ ” My voice drips with sarcasm. “Because of course, since my life has been ruined, money is going to make it all better…”

“I’ll talk to him,” Jasper says tiredly. “I’ll try and explain.”

“You may as well not bother,” I mutter. “When has he ever listened to a thing I’ve had to say?” I stare at the tv, realising that Emmett is still sprawled out on the sofa and just heard all of that. _Welcome to my fucked up family relationships, Emmett,_ I think sourly.

Emmett taps his knuckles against his teeth for a moment, and then says thoughtfully, “You have a Camaro?”

 _He’s not going to ask, not about any of the bad things that he just overheard…is he really just going to take me as I am?_ For a moment I just stare at him, and then a smile curves across my face. “1969 classic convertible,” I say with a grin.

“Well,” Emmett says with a sigh. “No wonder you know your classic cars then…sounds like that Jeopardy category was made for you.”


	10. Emmett's Birthday

Esme cooks another big roast dinner for Emmett’s birthday. When I join everyone in the dining room I’m amused to see that he’s been given the seat at the head of the table and has a paper crown sitting lopsidedly on his dark curly hair.

“Family tradition,” he says to me with a slightly embarrassed smile. “Esme thinks you should feel special on your birthday.”

“Well, so you should,” Esme says cheerfully, bringing in another bowl of vegetables. “Another year older, another year wiser…”

“Another year in which you haven’t incited anyone to murder you,” Edward contributes helpfully, and Emmett laughs and throws a bean at him.

Edward grins, and eats the bean that has landed perfectly centred on his plate. “Happy birthday big brother,” he says to Emmett, passing across a neatly wrapped package which Emmett tears open to reveal a shoe box containing a pair of enormous sneakers.

“They can go with Alice’s socks,” Edward teases, and Emmett and Alice both laugh.

“Thanks bro,” Emmett says affectionately. “These are great.”

“Not as good as my socks, of course!” Alice says with a pout, but then she grins and hands Emmett another wrapped package. “As if I’m not going to buy you something good! Just because you can’t give good gifts doesn’t mean I’m going to sink to giving you socks and soap.”

Emmett reaches across the table and affectionately rumples Alice’s hair. “Thanks Ali,” he says, before he even unwraps his gift. It’s a t-shirt, with what I guess is a band logo on the front although I don’t recognise it, but that Emmett obviously loves.

“From me and Rosalie,” Jasper says then, surprising me, and hands over an envelope. Emmett withdraws an itunes gift card as Jasper shrugs. “It’s not that exciting…”

“No dude, this is great. Thanks…both of you.” He grins at Jasper and then me, and I smile back faintly as Jasper mouths “You owe me money” across the table.

Esme and Carlisle give Emmett the new ipod we bought shopping in Port Angeles, as well as some new seat covers for his Jeep, and then everyone dives into the food. I’m so happy to be able to cut up things with a knife and fork again that I cut up everything, even though it takes me twice as long to eat my dinner.

We have cake for dessert, complete with nineteen candles that Emmett manages to blow out in one breath. As we eat the cake Esme starts getting nostalgic.

“Just look at you now Emmett,” she sighs fondly. “Who would have thought when we bought that scrawny little ragamuffin home that you’d grow up so big and handsome?”

Carlisle laughs and says reminiscently. “Remember when he was the same size as Edward? I don’t think I’ve ever seen any child eat the way you could though, Emmett.”

Emmett is half laughing and half embarrassed. “Oh, come on guys!” He’s got to be about six and a half feet tall now, half a foot taller than Edward and twice as broad. It’s hard to imagine they were every the same size, especially considering that Edward’s two years younger.

Emmett runs a hand through his hair, dislodging his crown, and says, “Stop, please! Do you have to do this every birthday? We get it…I was a short little gnome, and now I’m a god.”

He flexes, and I can’t help joining Esme and Carlisle in their laughter. Emmett is so full of himself, and yet it falls just on the right side of being overly obnoxious. His eyes are creased in amusement and his cheeks are dimpling as he looks at me and smiles.

“We like to acknowledge how far you’ve come,” Carlisle says gently. “You had a challenging start in life Emmett, and you’ve done very well to become the person you are now.”

“We’ve been so lucky,” Esme adds softly. “I feel so blessed that you and Alice and Edward all came to us, and we’ve been able to be a family all these years.”

For a moment Emmett ducks his face, and I just stare at them with a lump in my throat. When was the last time my dad said anything like that to me? We haven’t celebrated a birthday with a family dinner since my mother died.  Yeah, he’d given me his credit card for a spectacular sweet sixteen party, but he hadn’t even been there until after we’d already cut the cake. Last birthday, when Jasper and I turned seventeen, Dad had been away on business so we’d eaten takeout pizza and watched tv and dad hadn’t even bothered to call.

Alice smiles and lifts her glass, which is half full of water. “To Emmett! Happy birthday!”

“Happy birthday, Emmett!” Everyone else lifts their glasses, even Jasper and I, although I notice with a grin that Carlisle and Esme have wine, Jasper has soda, Edward and I have apple juice and Emmett has milk.

“And to Melody,” Esme adds, a little more softly. “Who gave the world Emmett.”

Alice’s smile falters and she quietly places her glass on the table, but Edward and Jasper both raise theirs again and murmur, “To Melody.”

For a moment Emmett’s lips twist, but then he lifts his glass with a soft smile and says quickly, “Momma,” and gulps down his milk.

Jasper offers to clear the table and Alice jumps up to help him. I stay at the table as they clear around me, still picking at my cake which is delicious. Emmett stays seated at the head of the table, fiddling with his new ipod, as Esme and Carlisle and Edward all drift away to the kitchen or living room. He looks up as I push my plate away with a sigh.

“You’re not going to finish that?”

I lick the frosting off my fingers. “I can’t…it was delicious but I can’t eat any more.”

Emmett takes the chunk that’s left and stuffs it into his mouth. “Esme does make good cake,” he says a minute later, swallowing.

“Is Melody your mom?” I ask, a little hesitantly.

“Yes.” Emmett wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Esme likes to acknowledge her on birthdays. She thinks it’s important to remember where I came from.” He looks at me. “Do you think that’s weird?”

“Everything about your family is weird!” I say in heart felt tones, and then laugh at the look of surprise on Emmett’s face. “Good weird though,” I add hastily. “You’re all just so genuinely _nice_ to each other, and so involved in each other’s lives. It’s…nice,” I finish lamely. “I haven’t known a family like this before.”

Emmett smiles slowly, and then says tentatively. “You want me to show you something?”

“Okay.”

With his birthday presents in hand, Emmett leads me upstairs and into his room. I hesitate briefly on the threshold but follow him in, perching gingerly on the end of his bed since it’s the only surface clear enough to sit on. His place looks like a disaster zone.

“I can’t understand why you’ve not been featured in Beautiful Bedrooms magazine yet,” I can’t resist saying, “Really stunning decorative motif you’ve got going here…what is it, hobo chic? Dump site delight? They don’t know what they’re missing.”

Emmett chuckles. “You just don’t understand my vision.” He crouches down so he can reach into the bottom drawer of his nightstand. Remembering what I accidently stumbled upon in Jasper’s nightstand once I’m not sure at first I want to look, but my natural curiosity overcomes me and I peer over Emmett’s shoulder.

The drawer contains only an innocent, if slightly baffling, collection of objects. A red knitted sweater, a Spiderman toothbrush, a small wooden train engine, some folded up notes, a broken watch…I see all these before Emmett finds what he’s looking for and slams the drawer shut.

Sitting beside me on the bed, he shows me what he’s holding. It’s a double photo frame, made of cheap white plastic with tarnished metal hinges holding it together, but I can see the care he takes with it and I’m gentle when he passes it over to me. For a moment his face looks uncertain, and for the first time I see that Emmett, cheerful, confident Emmett, can be vulnerable. “That’s me. And that’s me and my momma,” he said quietly.

I would have known the toddler in the photograph was Emmett even if he hadn’t said so. The background has snowflakes and a large, glittery Christmas tree- the kind of generic seasonal background that mall photo places always use – but the curly headed baby with the enormous dimpled grin who’s holding an oversized candy cane like a weapon could only be Emmett. In the other picture he’s sitting on the lap of a curly haired, dimpled girl with delicate features, and both of them are laughing.

“She looks like Alice,” I say. I look back at the picture. She doesn’t look old enough to be the mother of the chunky baby on her lap, but the way her arms are curved around the little body and her cheek is pressed against his curly hair makes my heart ache.

“She did,” Emmett said softly. He takes the pictures back from me, but doesn’t put them away. “These are the only pictures I have- it sat on top of the tv at my grandma’s house for years, and then after she died I kept it. The social worker found it at the house and gave it to me after I came to live with Carlisle and Esme. Esme would put it out somewhere, she’s very into respecting Melody as our ‘first mother’ but Alice doesn’t really like to see it.”

“She looks so young,” I can’t help saying.

“She was nineteen when she had me, but she looks a lot younger I think,” Emmett said reflectively. “Crazy to think I’m nineteen now…god, imagine a baby.”

“Yeah, imagine that,” I say, so softly I don’t even know if he hears me. “You were a pretty adorable baby,” I add, trying to lighten the mood.

Emmett snorts, but I can tell he’s pleased. “I was as fat as the Michelin man,” he says. “Look at those rolls of chub on my arms!”

“Yeah, but that’s cute in a baby!” I say with a laugh.

Emmett smiles at me, and I can tell that he’s shared something special to him by showing me his photos. I look away, wondering a little hopelessly if I’m ever going to be able to open up to people as easily as he seems to.

“What else have you got in there?” I ask, as Emmett slides the photo frame back under the sweater in his drawer.

“Secrets,” he says with a laugh, but I notice he’s quick to close it. He looks at me speculatively. “Maybe I’ll tell you about them…one day.”

I nod. If anyone knows the value of privacy it’s me. I absent-mindedly pick up the book sitting on the top of Emmett’s nightstand and read the back cover. It’s an epic fantasy novel that’s got over a thousand pages, and there’s a leather bookmark stuck between the pages about three quarters of the way through.

“Any good?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious as I realise he’s watching me, sitting back on his heels on the floor beside my feet.

“If you like that kind of thing,” he answers, standing up and stretching. He leans backwards against his desk, picking up a baseball from the rubble that covers it and tossing it lightly hand to hand. “Do you?”

I replace the book on the nightstand and shrug. “Jasper does. My mom used to read them, she had a big collection.”

“She’s not around anymore, is she?” Emmett asked. “She died a few years ago?”

“When we were eleven,” I say slowly. “She had ovarian cancer.”

Emmett looks at me steadily. “I’m sorry…that would have been rough.”

I look out the window at the deepening twilight. “It was. She was diagnosed when Jas and I were six, so she made it five years…that’s pretty good for that kind of cancer really, but it was hard for her. There were a lot of recurrences and treatments during those five years.” I remember how it felt to ride that rollercoaster of sickness and health with my mother, never knowing when the whole thing would derail. I wonder why I’m telling Emmett all this.

“Maybe that’s why I just can’t understand how your family can be this way,” I go on. “For so long everything revolved around my mom’s health, and then after she died…well, work was always my dad’s priority. So for the past six years it’s pretty much just been me and Jasper.” I laugh, a little shakily. “There are no paper crowns and toasts on our birthday, you know?”

“Family is really important to Carlisle and Esme,” Emmett says. “They’ve always been really involved, and they make us be involved too. It drives you crazy sometimes,” he chuckles. “They’re really big on all of us ‘supporting’ each other’s crap, so they make us go along and watch Edward’s running and Alice cheering at games and my baseball and wrestling… it’s kind of embarrassing sometimes. But they worked hard to make this family, adopting Edward after his mother died and then going through all the crap involved in fostering and adopting me and Alice, so it means a lot to them. We go along with it.” He shrugs. “And in the end it’s good to have a family that you know is behind you, no matter what.”

“At least I have Jasper,” I say quietly. There aren’t enough words in the world to say how much Jasper has done for me when I’ve needed him.

“He’s a good guy,” Emmett says. “And I guess you’ve got us now…if you want us.”

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “I guess I do.”


	11. Ready to Try Normal

After a restless night I wake early the day we’re due to start school. It’s barely even dawn, but I know I’ll never go to sleep again and so after I moment I slip out of bed and find some workout gear and pad silently downstairs.

It’s been so long. I take my time over the warm up, stretching carefully, almost tentative over some of the movements. I’m horrified by the amount of strength and muscle I’ve lost. Once I’ve warmed up I plug my new iphone into the speaker dock and start my dance playlist and then move to the centre of the floor and let myself go. I’m clumsier than I’m used to being, my muscles feel more stretched and as the songs move from one to the next my muscles shake with the effort of doing what I’m asking of them after such a long time of inactivity. But I’m moving freely, no sharp stabbing pains in my broken bones and stitched together skin, and as the sweat drips and I catch glimpses of myself moving in the mirror, I’m feeling more alive and more myself than I have in weeks.

I stop when there are footsteps on the stairs and Edward comes down. I feel suddenly awkward in my shorts and sports bra, my sweaty hair falling out of the ponytail and sticking to my face and neck. I always used to work out in bras, but I realise now that with my belly bare you can see my surgical scars and I wish I’d thought to put on a t-shirt.

“Don’t mind me,” Edward says calmly, sitting on the bottom step and lacing up his sneakers. “I’m just using the treadmill.”

“I’m finished anyway,” I say. I know I should do a good warm down, I’ll regret it tomorrow if I don’t, but it feels too awkward to be down here half dressed with Edward.

“Well don’t leave on my account,” Edward says, straddling the treadmill and plugging in his headphone. “I’m just going to run for a bit.” He presses some buttons and the treadmill whirs into life, and then Edward starts a slow, even jog.

I take my phone and head upstairs. I hope I can get to my room without seeing anyone, but Carlisle and Esme are already in the kitchen, drinking coffee and laughing together over something in the newspaper.

“Good morning Rosalie,” Esme says. “We should have guessed it was you down there! We heard the music and thought it was Alice, but it would take an earthquake to get her out of bed this early.”

“Workout went okay?” Carlisle asks lightly. The question sounds casual, but I know he’s asking as a doctor, not just as a parental figure. “No concerns?”

“Just how out of shape I am,” I say honestly. “I’m so unfit, and I’ve lost so much muscle tone.” My arms are folded over my belly and I keep backing away towards the door.

“It’ll come back,” Carlisle says confidently. “You were fit and strong before- probably why you healed so well – and you will be again. Just take it easy and don’t push yourself too hard. Let me know if you have any worries.”

“I will,” I say, and then I reach the door to the living room and turn and hurry upstairs. I want to have a shower and I’m relieved that Alice is still sleeping and I can go right in.

The warm water feels good on my muscles, washing away the sweat, and despite the looming spectre of my new school I feel pretty good. I dress carefully in some of my new clothes and brush my hair, adding a bit of makeup in an effort to cover up the bruise-like shadows that chronic sleeplessness has left under my eyes.

Jasper is stretched out across my bed when I come out of the bathroom. “Hey Rose. Ready for school?”

I smile at him, and search through the jewellery that’s scattered across the top of the chest of drawers. I decide on my silver hoop earrings and the heavy moonstone pendant and then turn around and strike a pose. “Do I look ready?”

Jasper laughs. “You look great.” He stands up, and I notice he’s more dressed up than I would have expected, wearing a pair of dark trousers and a cotton button down shirt.

“You look good too,” I say, a little surprised. Jasper’s good looking, but he has always been more of a jeans and t-shirt sort of guy. “Are you looking to impress someone?”

Jasper coughs in embarrassment. “No. Alice got into my wardrobe yesterday. She thought I should wear this today…what do you think?” He looks at me a little anxiously.

I step closer to him and straighten his collar. “I like it a lot actually…you look very sharp.”

Jasper grins at me, relieved. “Thanks.” He hesitates, looking down at me. “You’ll be okay at school today?”

My smile fades, and I needlessly straighten his collar again as I think. “Yeah,” I say eventually. “I _will_ be okay at school. I’m ready to try normal again Jas. No one here in Forks knows what happened, and I want it that way. I can pretend that this whole summer never happened.”

Jasper looks troubled. “But it _did_ happen Rose,” he says gently. “That doesn’t mean you have to tell everyone you meet, but it worries me that you haven’t even talked about it at all. You’re not in touch with any of your old friends, and you’re not talking to me about any of it either, and now you’re refusing to go and see anyone that Carlisle could set you up with…”

“Oh, shut up Jasper,” I say impatiently. “I _know_ it happened, I know _exactly_ how it’s fucked me up…but I don’t _want_ to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to move on, and that’s what I’m going to do now that I’m starting school here.” I turn away from him and flounce into the closet, looking for the leather bag I picked up on our shopping trip to use as a school bag.

Jasper is still standing by my bed, arms folded over his chest. “Okay!” he says quickly, before I can open my mouth. “I’ll shut up about it…for now.”

I smirk at him. “Thank you, brother dear.”

“Let’s go down to breakfast,” Jasper says with a sigh, but as I brush past him he looks down at me and there’s so much love and pain in his eyes that I have to look away. “I love you Rosie,” he mutters, and the fact that he uses the baby name that no one ever calls me anymore makes my breath catch. “I hate what they did to you and I hate that I can’t do anything to make this easier. I wish…”

“Don’t.” I hold my shaking hand up to his mouth, cutting off his words. “Don’t waste time wishing Jasper.” I take a deep breath. “It is what it is, and I’ll survive. Now come on, we’ve got a new school to take on.”

Edward drives us to school in the Volvo. My muscle car loving heart writhes with mortification about being driven in a Volvo, but I just send off a quick text message to remind Dad about the Camaro and keep my mouth shut. In the absence of having my own car, a Volvo driven by Edward is still a more appealing prospect than hiking miles through the forest to school.

Forks High School, home of the Spartans, is a lot smaller than my old school in Rochester. There are no metal detectors and security guards here. As I follow the three Cullens up the stairs from the parking lot towards the main building, I am acutely conscious of the many pairs of eyes that follow our progress and the whispers that start up as I pass. I make sure the sleeve of my new t-shirt is pulled down over the wrist on the arm I broke, which looks thin and withered in comparison to the other, and straighten my back.

“Everyone _will_ stare today,” Alice says to me with a giggle. “You might have guessed that not a lot happens in Forks, and even less happens at Forks High…you’re going to be something of a novelty showing up for senior year.” She doesn’t add ‘ _especially looking the way you do’_ but as her eyes glance across me from my toes in my new leather boots to the top of my blonde head the words hang unsaid in the air.

Although Jasper and I made the decision to come here less than two weeks ago the school is organised with their paperwork, and we’re given schedules, a pile of textbooks and locker assignments in the front office with plenty of time to find our way before the first bell.

Alice was waiting to show us where to go, but she has been enveloped in a crowd of girls all talking and laughing and showing each other things on their phones. Before she can extract herself a hand touches my arm and a masculine voice says, “You’re new? Do you want me to help you find your locker?”

I turn sharply and for a moment my heart thumps anxiously. The boy is tall and has the build of a football player and must wear a particular cologne I’m intimately familiar with because he smells like… _Don’t. Don’t go there, not now._

“I’m Neil,” he says, a little awkward in the face of my frozen response. “I just thought you might like someone to show you where to go…”

“Sure,” I say, forcing myself to sound casual. I don’t know where my locker is, and this pile of books is heavy. “I’m Rosalie, and this is my brother Jasper.”

Jasper nods and Neil nods back, both of them checking each other out the way boys do. “My locker is number 217,” I say prompting Neil to action.

“That’s this way,” he says, leading off down the hall. I’m slightly amused at the way he basically ignores Jasper, who just gives me a long suffering look and goes with it. “You must be new in town…I haven’t seen you around. Did you just move to Forks?”

“We’re living with the Cullens,” I say. “Do you know them?”

“Oh sure…everyone knows everyone here!” Neil laughs. “I play baseball with Emmett in spring, and Alice is on the cheerleading squad. I play football,” he says, with the kind of forced casualness that lets me know he really wanted me to know that, adding, “Oh, there’s your locker Jasper.”

I’ve already checked Jasper’s schedule and know that we don’t share our first class. He stops by his locker and even though Neil obviously wants me to just keep walking with him I stop beside my brother.

“I’ll see you later, I guess,” I say, a little uncertainly. I have never been dependent on Jasper’s company in the past, but so many things are different now…

“I’ve got my phone,” Jasper says, quietly enough that no one else could hear him. “If you need me Rose, just give me a call, okay?”

I nod, automatically touching the lump in the side pocket of my bag that’s my phone. I’d resisted getting a new phone but now it feels like a lifeline as I smile at Jasper and then walk down the hallway beside Neil.

He was right about knowing everyone. A lot of people stop and say hello to him, and he answers their greetings with breezy confidence. I don’t like the slightly possessive way he introduces me, as though he has already established some kind of relationship with me, and I’m glad when we get to my locker.

“Thanks,” I say briefly, checking the combination and opening my locker. It smells like bleach, but at least it’s clean, and I dump the pile of textbooks in there before I start shuffling through them to find what I’ll need first.

“Anytime,” Neil says, leaning against the locker beside me. “I can take you to your first class if you like?”

“No, that’s okay,” I say. “I saw the room when we passed it just back there. Thanks for the offer though.”

Neil is obviously reluctant to leave. “Maybe I’ll see you in class later then? Or at lunch? You’re welcome to sit with me and my buddies…”

“I’m not sure what I’m doing yet,” I say briefly. “I’ll see you round. Thanks.” Since he’s obviously not going to leave I pick up the books I need for the first few classes and give him a smile as I head back down the hallway to my first class. I can feel his eyes following me.

Neil isn’t the only one though. There are a lot of boys in this school, and on the first day it seems like there’s always one at my elbow, offering to show me to my next class or asking if I need help. The girls seem warier, although when Jasper walks into my math class and drops into the seat beside me I meet several of them.

Emmett is in my gym class. He comes loping out of the change rooms just as I finish talking to the gym teacher about my medical exemption from certain activities. The coach tells me they’re playing basketball today, so I can just sit in the stands and watch, and Emmett falls into step beside me as I head for the bleachers.

“How’s your day going?” he asks. “Enjoying Forks high?” He gives me a dimpled grin. “I’ve been hearing stories all day about the hot new blonde.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, Jasper _is_ pretty attractive,” I say, which makes Emmett laugh.

“I don’t know Rosalie, I think you could take your pick…”

“I’m not interested,” I say, and my voice sounds tight. I sit down on the bottom row of the bleachers, watching as other students come out of the change rooms in ones and twos. “I’m really not looking for a boyfriend.”

“Well, I know a few guys who are going to be mighty disappointed to hear that,” Emmett says lightly, dropping onto the bleachers beside me. His gym t-shirt and shorts are badly wrinkled, but he smells like clean laundry and the forest outside and I have a sudden, crazy desire to bury my face in his chest and breathe him in.

“Hey Cullen!” the coach shouts. “You just going to sit there on your butt all day? It’s not vacation time now son, and you’ve got a match coming up!”

Emmett waves a hand and rises to his feet. “My wrestling coach,” he says, by way of explanation.

“Oh well, by all means go on then,” I say with a grin. “You’ve got to get in shape for all that rolling around and groping…”

Emmett snorts and regards me with amusement. “You’re sounding quite excited about the homoerotic aspects Rosalie…I’m beginning to suspect you’re a closet fan.”

“Who’s in the closet?” I say innocently. “Men in spandex…just because I don’t want a boyfriend doesn’t mean I don’t like looking.” And I cover my grin with my hand as Emmett blinks at me in surprise and then throws his head back laughing.

I’m still smiling as Emmett jogs on to the court and leaps up to catch the ball thrown his way. He’s surprisingly graceful for such a big man, and once again I feel the ground shift uncertainly beneath me as the thought drifts through my head, _he’s so beautiful…why did I have to meet him NOW?_


	12. Gift From the Past

I’m relieved to see Alice waving at me energetically when I step into the cafeteria. She’s already seated behind a tray of food, with Bella on one side and an empty place on the other, and she beckons me over.

“Leave your stuff here and go get lunch,” she invites. “I’d avoid the meatloaf if I was you, but everything else is okay.”

I take her advice and skip the hot lunch in favour of a sandwich and cookie and juice, sitting down beside her with a quiet sigh. Jasper had been ahead of me in the lunch line and he’s already seated across from Alice, smiling at her with his eyes bright. I notice that he’s decided to brave the meatloaf.

“Have you had a good day?” Alice asks. “Met many people?”

“Lots of people,” I answer, waving at Neil who seems disappointed when I don’t go over to him.

Alice follows my line of sight and giggles when she sees who I’m waving to. “Oh him… I should have known he’d hit on you.”

“He’s wasting his time,” I say briefly, and then repeat what I said earlier to Emmett. “I’m not interested.”

“I’m not sure he’s got the message, judging by the way he’s staring at you,” Alice whispers.

I snort impatiently. “What do I have to do, spit in his face? He showed me where my locker was and I was basically polite…in what world does this translate to “I’m interested in hooking up with you”?” I scowl as I open my juice.

“He broke up with Heather again over the summer,” Alice says musingly. “She’s on the squad with me, and they’ve been on and off since they were both freshmen apparently.”

I know exactly the type of people and relationship Alice is talking about, and that is the last thing I need. “Well, he’s going to have to look elsewhere,” I say flatly. “Because I am not in the least bit attracted to him, I have no interest in that kind of drama, and I’m never dating a football player again.”

I haven’t planned that little speech, and the last sentence slips out before I can stop it. Alice, who notices every little nuance of speech and flash of expression, looks at me with sharp interest, but at just the right moment I hear the beep of an incoming message on my phone.

I fish it out of my bag and read the text. “It’s from dad,” I tell Jasper, a little surprised. “Oh, great…he says the Camaro is being delivered to the Cullens’ place on Friday. He’s told me to get someone who knows what they’re doing to fix it and send him the bill. Awesome.”

“That’s great,” Jasper agrees.

I look past Alice to Bella. “Did you mean it, the other day? That your friend might be able to fix up my car?”

Bella looks a little anxious. “Yes. I mean, he’s not a professional or anything, he’s only sixteen, but he knows what he’s doing. And he has some older friends and they all work on stuff together.”

“Does he go to this school?” I ask, looking around.

“No, he’s Quileute and goes to the school on the reservation,” Bella says.

“What about the school on the res?” Emmett suddenly appears, taking a seat beside Jasper. “We’re having a friendly against them with wrestling one weekend.”

Alice rolls her eyes. “We’re not talking about wrestling! We’re talking about fixing cars. Bella’s friend Jacob is going to do up Rosalie’s car for her.”

“Well, I’m going to ask him about it,” I say quickly.

“He can’t do a worse job than those bastards at the Forks auto shop would,” Emmett says with a scowl. “Jesus, you should have seen what they did to my Jeep when they were trying to fix her, and then the way they charged was outrageous!”

“Jacob won’t rip you off,” Bella said softly. “I can give him a call if you like Rosalie, and see about taking your car out there this weekend? It takes about twenty minutes to drive to the reservation.”

“That would be good.” I glance at Jasper, adding wryly, “And don’t worry about the money, dad’s paying for it.”

 _Of course, if he has his way, he’s aiming for a very lucrative settlement in a civil court case…_ I quash that thought ruthlessly and turn my attention back to my sandwich.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

“Oh, you’ve found a cool spot out here. Mind if I join you?”

I shake my head and Esme takes a seat beside me on the porch swing, setting it rocking gently. It’s Friday evening, an abnormally hot September evening, and I’ve spent the last hour reading outside and waiting for my car to be delivered.

“How was your first week of school?” Esme asks pleasantly.

I put my book face down to keep my place on the small side table and sit back, pulling up my legs and hugging my knees. “It was okay,” I say to her. “It’s a good school.”

I’ve been a little surprised by the high standard of work expected, but the challenge has fired my competitive spirit and I’m actually grateful for the way that studying is helping me take my mind off things.

 “Do you feel as though you’re settling in here in Forks?” Esme’s voice is gentle. “Feeling more comfortable and at home?”

I consider her questions. “Yeah, I think I am,” I say, a little surprised. “It’s all so different here, but it’s starting to feel normal. _I’m_ starting to feel normal.” I give her a half-embarrassed smile.

“Well, that’s wonderful,” Esme says sincerely. “I’m so glad. Are you making friends at school? Alice says the boys are certainly interested.”

I grimace. “I guess so. I wish they’d just lay off though.”

“Well, if anyone gives you any trouble just let us know. We can help you sort things out.” Esme says, sounding quite fierce before her face relaxes again. “Of course, if you meet someone you’d like to date…”

“No,” I say hastily. “No, I don’t want to date and I haven’t met anyone anyway. I guess…I guess I’m not that good at making friends.”

I curl a piece of hair around my finger and tug on it, thinking that while that has never been true before, it is true here in Forks. From kindergarten I have always been at the centre of a close-knit group of friends. There was always someone to play with and whisper and laugh with, someone to plan sleepovers and movies and bike rides with, someone to go shopping and experiment with make-up and trade clothes with. Then there were all the boys…I started dating in middle school and it was a steady stream of boys wanting to take me out and try their luck after that. A Friday night alone at home, reading on the porch, would have been unthinkable to me a couple of months ago.

“I’m sure that friendships will come,” Esme says comfortingly. “You probably just need to get to know people a bit better. Maybe you could join a club or an activity?”

I shrug. “I’m okay as things are…really, I am.”

Esme accepts that. “Jellybean?” she offers, holding out a small bag.

I giggle and take a handful. “Thank you.”

“They’re my guilty pleasure,” she confides, eating some herself. “I have to hide them from Emmett, he’s terrible about sneaking all the snacks.”

   “He showed me where you hide things in the cabinets,” I confess, remembering back to my first night here.

Esme laughs comfortably. “Yes, that’s where I put the things I don’t care if he eats…I have my other hiding places that he knows nothing about!”

I laugh, and then sit up as I hear the roar of a truck making its way slowly up the Cullens’ long driveway. “This must be my car!”

It is the Camaro, and after I find Carlisle to sign the delivery slip the car is driven off the truck and parked in the garage. Between the monstrosity that is Emmett’s Jeep and the sleekness of Carlisle’s Mercedes it looks every bit of its age, but I don’t care as I sit in it and run my hand over the cracked leather steering wheel cover.

“Hey, this is sweet,” Emmett says approvingly. He has come out to the garage to take a look and slides in to the passenger side next to me. He stretches his arms out along the seat back and along the top of the door and grins. “Very nice…not my Jeep, but I can see the appeal.”

Carlisle is leaning against the Mercedes and smiles at the two of us reminiscently. “Rosalie, you look just like your mother sitting there in that car,” he tells me, and then gives a rueful laugh. “I can’t believe it’s really Lily’s convertible…the number of hours I’ve spent driving around on double dates in this very car!”

“What?” Emmett sounds scandalised. “You went out with Rosalie’s mom?”

Carlisle laughs heartily. “No! You know I was roommates with Jack, and he’s Rosalie and Jasper’s dad. He was dating Lily all through college, so of course I knew her well too. They used to make me go out on double dates with them…Lily was always saying I worked too hard and setting me up with girls she thought I’d like.” He grins teasingly at Esme. “I had a few notable firsts in this car, you know…”

“Ugh, no!” Emmett threw up his hands. “Dad, come on…no one needs to know about your dirty bachelor days!”

Carlisle roars with laughter. “That’s big, coming from _you_! I thought you were all in favour of playing the field?”  

 Emmett blushes uncomfortably. “Well, maybe I said something like that…but I wasn’t talking about _you_!”

Shaking his head, Carlisle wraps an arm around Esme and hugs her affectionately. “You don’t mind my dirty bachelor past, do you love? I’ve got to say that it was probably a lot more innocent than Emmett’s efforts have been so far, and he’s not even in college yet…”

Emmett squirms, looking mortified. “Okay, I’m sorry I ever said anything! I’m glad you had a wonderful time in college, going out to sock hops and taffy pulls or whatever you did in the olden days…”

Carlisle cuffs him over the back of the head affectionately. “I’d quit while I was ahead, if I were you,” he says, before he takes Esme’s hand and the two of them head back towards the house. “Rosalie- I like your car. It’s got real style,” he tells me over his shoulder as they leave the garage.

Emmett bites his knuckles and runs a hand through his hair. I put my hands on the steering wheel and give him a sideways look.

“Playing the field, huh?” I say lightly.

Emmett groans. “Carlisle has such a big mouth. It’s not like that.”

“So how many girlfriends have you had then?”

Emmett shakes his head. “Not that many.” He relaxes back into the seat. “Honestly…I dated a few girls at school and messed around a bit with some girls at camp, but that’s it. It’s never been serious.”

I wonder what ‘messed around’ is a euphemism for, and then I wonder why I even care.

“So, what about you then?” Emmett’s voice is casual.

“Girlfriends? No, not really my thing.”

Emmett snorts. “Boys then, smartass.”

I wind a piece of hair around my fingers and pull on it thoughtfully. “I used to go out a lot and that was all just casual…but I had a boyfriend for most of the last school year. He…his name was Royce.” My heart thumps uncomfortably. I haven’t said his name or talked about him since the last time they made me. “But that’s over now.”

“Do you miss him?” Emmett’s voice is casual, but I’m aware of how intently his blue eyes are focussed on my face.

“No!” I can’t suppress the shudder, and the way my hand instinctively goes to touch my scars. I grip the steering wheel tightly and stare straight ahead. “No, I don’t miss him.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Emmett says, and I’m so surprised I turn and look him full in the face. He smiles at me, and between his bright blue eyes and his dimples I’m caught and I feel a whole different kind of breathless. For a moment neither of us move, and then Emmett stretches out and says, “So, this thing drives right? You going to take me for a ride?”

“Sure,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.” I turn the car on and we head out down the driveway and into the twilight.


	13. At the Reservation

The weather turns overnight, and when I wake from a nightmare in the early hours of the morning I find I’ve kicked off the quilt and I’m shivering with cold. At least this time I’ve woken before I start screaming and wake everyone else.

I can’t stay in bed after the nightmares. I never can. Instead I drag my quilt downstairs with me and watch old sitcom episodes, and it’s only as the sun begins to rise and lighten the big living room that I manage to fall into a fitful doze.

When I open my eyes, Carlisle is sitting in the armchair with watching Seinfeld, a plate of toast in his lap and holding a glass containing a smoothie that looks like green slime. He’s wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and I guess he’s probably been downstairs working out before breakfast.

“Morning Rosalie,” he says casually.

I mumble something that might pass for hello. Usually I manage to wake up and get myself back upstairs before anyone comes down, and I’m feeling edgy and vulnerable about being found down here this morning. I slump further down into the cocoon of my quilt and stare at the tv.

“Another nightmare?” Carlisle asks casually.

I shoot him a glare, and he smiles at me guilelessly. “It’s not the first morning I’ve seen you down here and you’ve woken the others up a number of times during the night.”

“Well _excuse_ me,” I snarl quietly. “I’m sorry to inconvenience anyone.”

Carlisle smiles patiently. “I’m not having a go at you, Rosalie. No one’s saying that. But I’m aware of what’s happening, and you have to admit that things could be better. You’re not getting enough sleep and that’s a fact.”

I grit my teeth and say nothing. Does he think I _like_ this? I hate going to bed, I hate this chronic feeling of exhaustion, and I hate feeling like my own mind betrays me every single night that it brings everything back with an inescapable nightmare!

I’m about to get up and go back upstairs to get away from him when Esme comes into the living room with a plate which she hands to me. “Here’s some breakfast Rosalie- eat up.” It’s a toasted peanut butter and banana sandwich…Esme is determined to fatten me up. I don’t mind. I know I lost too much weight right after it happened and I’m looking better now that I’m not as skinny.

“Thank you,” I say. I am grateful and the sandwich is good. After eating Esme’s organic peanut butter I went and bought the regular kind that’s no doubt full of salt and sugar and hydrogenated fats and preservatives, and although she sighed at me Esme always uses it when she makes my things.

“You do need to do something,” Esme says gently. “You can’t go on like this. I know you didn’t want therapy, but this isn’t a healthy or happy way to live, Rosalie.”

I swear under my breath and nearly fall over myself getting to my feet while unwrapping the quilt. “Just forget about it, okay? I get it, I’m all kinds of fucked up, I’m broken…I’m sorry that bothers everyone else so much!” Feeling dangerously close to tears I storm up the stairs, sandwich in one hand and quilt trailing behind me in the other.

“Nice jammies,” Emmett comments with a sleepy smile as I pass him at the top of the stairs.

“Shut up, asshole!” I hiss furiously. I don’t stop, but I’m not quick enough to miss the brief look of surprise and hurt that flickers across his face before I slam into my bedroom, and I throw myself on the bed feeling even worse than I did before.

I finish my breakfast and then have a long shower, drying myself and dressing with my back to the mirrors so I don’t have to see myself, and I feel better after that. When I hear the roar of Bella’s truck driving into the yard I grab my phone and keys and run lightly downstairs.

“Your car got here?” Bella asks as she enters the living room. “And you’re sure it’ll make it over to the reservation? Because if I have to call Jake and get a tow…”

“It’ll make it,” I interrupt, perching on the edge of the sofa. Alice is sitting in front of the television and watching music videos while she finishes her breakfast. “It does drive, it just wouldn’t have made it from Rochester to Forks! You said it’s only about 15 miles to Jacob’s, right? I took it out last night with Emmett and we drove further than that.”

“Okay, well that’s great,” Bella says in relief.

Alice looks from me to Emmett, who is stretched out the other end of the sofa, staring at the television, with her eyebrows raised. “Oh really? That’s interesting…where did you go?”

“Around,” Emmett mutters. “Nowhere.” He doesn’t look at me, and I wonder uncomfortably if I’ve actually hurt his feelings by snapping at him earlier.

“Well, you’re in a charming mood, aren’t you?” Alice says acerbically.

“Shut up,” Emmett growls, his arms folded over his chest and his biceps bulging.

Alice rolls her eyes and sighs theatrically. “Well girls, let’s leave this grumpy bear to his hibernation and go and visit the real men,” she says cheerfully.

Bella giggles and jumps to her feet. I start following them out, but pause in the doorway to look back for a moment. _I didn’t want this, not at all…but please don’t be upset with me Emmett, I can’t stand it._ “Emmett?”

“What?” His eyes don’t leave the television.

I wrap my hair around my fist and tug on it hard. “I’m sorry for being such a bitch,” I say quickly, and then turn and rush outside before I can see his response.

“I’m going to try out Rose’s convertible on the way over,” Alice tells Bella. “We’ll follow you, since Rosalie doesn’t know where she’s going, okay?”

Bella nods and climbs into her truck. It’s older than my convertible and I suppose I have to take the fact that such an antique is still on the road as proof of her mechanic friend’s skills. Alice jumps into the convertible and wraps a scarf around her head and dons a pair of giant sunglasses, despite the overcast day, and I shake my head as I swing in beside her.

“Don’t expect me to get all Thelma and Louse with you and drive off cliffs,” I say, starting the car and following Bella’s truck down the driveway.

Alice giggles. “Not at all. I’m just dressing for my surroundings. This car is gorgeous Rosalie. I mean, I don’t know a thing about cars, but it’s just such a unique style piece.”

I snort, but I can’t help feeling pleased. I love my mom’s old car with a passion, and none of my old friends ever understood. They always thought I should trade it in for something new and modern…I focus hard on the road, pushing the memories away before they can overwhelm me.

Bella parks in front of a shabby small house and I ease in beside her. The door flies open and a boy with sparkling dark eyes and long dark hair tied back in a sloppy ponytail comes bounding out, a broad grin splitting his face.

“Bells!” He picks Bella up and swings her around in a big hug. “It’s great to see you again! So what have you got for me?”

Alice flings off her scarf and glasses and skips out of the car, but I feel a sudden flush of shyness and take my time stepping out of the car and joining the three of them. Jacob looks me over and then looks away quickly, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and kicking at the dirt. It’s in stark contrast to the happily unself-conscious way he greeted Bella. Clearly I intimidate him, and I fight back a wave of irritation. Why does _everyone_ look at me and jump to conclusions? Why can’t I ever be just another girl?

“This is Rosalie,” Bella introduces me. “Rosalie, this is my friend Jacob.” She grins at him affectionately. “My dad and his dad are old friends, so I’ve known Jake since he was in diapers.”

“Yeah thanks Bells, way to make me look like someone to be respected.” Jacob gives me an embarrassed half smile. “I’ve grown up some since the diaper days, and I promise I know what I’m doing with cars. You want to show me what you’ve got?”

He sure has grown. Bella told me Jacob is only just sixteen, nearly a year younger than she is, but he’s already over six feet tall. I turn back to the car, touching the hood possessively. “This is it. It’s a ’69 Camaro, obviously, and it was my mom’s. It’s been in storage in our garage and has barely been driven for years. I’ve had it out a little in the last year and a half, but it’s not in the greatest shape.”

Jacob is looking the car over and I’m gratified by his genuine delight in it. He pops the hood and pokes around in the engine, then walks around it stroking the paintwork and looking at the rest. “It’s really not in that bad shape,” he tells me. “Considering its age and all…I was expecting worse.” Now that we’re talking about the car he’s on his own turf and he’s easy and confident in his manner. “I couldn’t really hear it over Bella’s truck…can I have the keys and have a listen?”

I toss him the keys and he turns it on and revs the engine, listening intently. I love that sound, and I can’t stop my slight smile as I lean against the car, feeling the vibrations of it against my thighs.

Jacob turns it off almost reluctantly, and this time the grin he gives me has no trace of self-consciousness. “Oh yeah, we can work on this,” he tells me. “What do you really want though? I mean, I’ll strip the engine back and clean it and replace anything that needs it mechanically, but what are you thinking about the rest of it? Your canvas isn’t in great condition and it does rain a lot here- we can patch it, or were you thinking about a full-on restoration, respray and everything?”

“Everything,” I say, caressing the leather of the seat. “I love this car. And since my dad is paying for it, I want the best of everything. Just keep on spending money and I’ll keep on sending the bills to him.”

Jacob’s eyes gleamed. “A car like this _and_ an unlimited budget? You’re sure you want to give it to me? I mean, you could get anyone you want to work on this…”

“Jake! Yo man, what have you got there?” A shout breaks into our conversation and a moment later a grinning young boy jogs over to the car and leans on the door. He looks a year or so younger than Jacob, and when he looks at me his eyes widen and his brown skin takes on a reddish hue as he blushes.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you here before. I’m Seth Clearwater.” He grins at me engagingly.

Even my legendary ice queen bitchiness can’t survive Seth Clearwater’s smile. Being rude to him would be like kicking a puppy. “I’m Rosalie Hale. Jacob’s going to do up my car.” Okay, so I’m exactly effusive or anything, but it’s better than most people get from me.

“Hey, this is neat!” Seth enthuses. “You’ll let me help, right Jake? Jake’s teaching me everything he knows,” he tells me proudly. “I’ve been helping him do up the Rabbit.”

Jacob snorts. “Yeah, great help you are. All you do is talk and eat my food.” But the look he gives Seth is that of an older brother- equal parts fondness and exasperation. “All right then Rosalie, if you’re sure you want me to start this let’s get this into the garage.”

“Yes,” I say, and then Jacob grins.

“How ‘bout I see how she runs first?” he suggests, and after a momentary hesitation I nod and slide into the passenger seat. Laughing, Alice and Bella and Seth pile into the back before Jacob takes off with a shriek of tyres and a crowing laugh.

He must drive past all his friends’ houses, because within five minutes of parking the Camaro in his dilapidated old garage there’s about an extra five Quileute men in the garage all pawing over my car and arguing about what to do with it first. Alice holds court from the back, sitting up on the rear seat and flirting outrageously, while Bella seems to be enjoying herself in a quieter way, sitting up on the bench and throwing in the odd remark. In some ways she seems more comfortable here, in this shabby, jumbled old garage, than I’ve ever seen her at school or the Cullens’ house.

I’m not comfortable. Not because anyone has done or said anything inappropriate, because they haven’t. They _look_ of course, but boys always look and it’s not something that I can afford to let bother me. But the garage isn’t so big that seven boys aged between fifteen and twenty don’t make it seem full, and the sheer masculine physicality of them all is making my heart pound and my palms sweat as they laugh and jostle and punch each other.

“Rosalie?”

I’ve unconsciously backed myself against the wall by the doorway, and I whip my head around to see another of the Quileutes looking at me somewhat curiously. He’s older than the others, maybe in his early twenties rather than in high school like the rest of them, and has a more serious look to him.

“I’m Sam Uley.” He holds out a hand, and I shake it quickly. His grip is firm, and I find something oddly comforting about the rough, calloused feel of his hand.

“Rosalie Hale.”

Sam nods. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I own the garage here in La Push, and so I’ll be doing the body work and re-spray job that Jake tells me you want.” He glances over at Jacob. “He knows what he’s doing, but if he runs into any trouble I’ll help him out. I can source parts cheaper than he can so I’ll help with that too. He says you haven’t given him a budget, but we’re not going to rip you off.”

 “Thanks,” I say, feeling suddenly awkward about being seen as a spoiled princess throwing daddy’s money around. “It was my mom’s car…it’s really important to me.”

“Well don’t worry,” Sam says confidently, and gives me a grin that lightens his serious face and makes me smile back. “We’ll take good care of her. I didn’t believe Jake when he told me he had a ’69 Camaro to work on, and I’m really looking forward to playing with this one! We’ll keep in touch and let you know how it’s all going.”

“Okay, thank you.” I look past him towards the doorway. “I’m just going to take a walk,” I say quickly. “Will you tell Alice if she asks where I am? I won’t be long.”

“Sure,” Sam nods. “You should check out the beach if you’ve never been here- it’s just that way.”

I nod, and slip out of the crowded noisy garage, taking a deep breath of the cool air outside. I just need to escape… Taking the direction that Sam pointed out to me, I start walking.


	14. The Beach

The beach takes my breath away with its curve of grey sand and piles of seaweed and driftwood, the rocky lumps of islands rising up out of the water. The wind whips my hair across my face and I flip my ponytail back as I take a deep breath of the salty air and scramble over the driftwood piles and rocks until I reach the hard sand at the water’s edge. I will have to tell Jasper about this so he can bring his camera down here.

There are a few lone figures walking dogs, but I guess the overcast, cool weather has kept most people away and for a moment I feel like I’m standing on the edge of the world. The wind is stinging my eyes and making me feel restless and alive, and as I take a deep breath I find myself laughing. There is no one here to see and so I take off, running fast and throwing myself into a string of round offs and handsprings and backflips, pretending that instead of a grey, deserted beach I’m back in a stadium full of football fans screaming and watching me cheer. My bad arm gives out without warning and I finish with an inglorious crash on to my knees in the sand, but I just give an exultant whoop as I fall backwards. I stare up at the clouds with a huge, goofy smile on my face, pretending that it’s the wind that’s bringing the tears to my eyes and not the memory of what I used to be.

“Are you okay? I mean, not that it’s any of my business or I particularly care either way, but it’s probably not good for the tribe if cheerleader Barbie breaks her leg on our beach and no one helps her.”

 _What the fuck?_ I scramble to my feet, brushing sand off my clothes as I turn and glare at the person who spoke to me. “Who the hell are you?”

It’s a girl, probably a little older than me, with the same russet skin and dark hair and eyes of the Quileute boys in the garage. Her arms are folded and she’s looking at me with a slight sneer. “I’m Leah Clearwater. I caught your little gymnastics display there and saw you fall at the end. You didn’t get up, so I thought I should do my civic duty and check that you hadn’t broken anything.”

I give up on trying to brush the wet sand out of my hair. “Well there was no need to be so fucking rude about it!”

She snorts. “Sorry I hurt your feelings then.”

God, where does she get off on being such a bitch? Clearwater… “Are you related to Seth?”

“You know my brother?”

“I just met him over at Jacob Black’s place. Apparently he’s going to fix my car.” At that moment a dog the size of a small pony, with the shaggy fur and gleaming white teeth that make it resemble nothing more closely than a wolf, comes barrelling towards me and I give an involuntary shriek and step back, stumbling slightly.

Leah laughs. “You seem to be having some trouble with coordination there,” she says. “Don’t worry about the dog- he’s harmless. Aren’t you, Boo Boo baby,” she croons, rubbing her hands through the thick fur as the dog stops at her side, and then lowering her face so he can lick her cheek.

“I don’t like dogs,” I say tightly. I don’t like anything unpredictable, and this big, slobbery, hairy thing looks like it could take my head off.

“What kind of person doesn’t like dogs?” Leah looks at me incredulously.

With a bad tempered scowl I turn and start flouncing back down the beach. I’m a little surprised at how much distance I covered in my tumbling run. A moment later I nearly shriek again as I feel the dog’s cool wet nose bumping into my hand and then a warm tongue slurping across my fingers.

“Go away!” I say to it sternly, but the dog just leans its head hard enough against my thigh that I stagger sideways as I walk.

I hear another laugh, and then Leah is beside me again. “Guess Boo Boo didn’t get the memo that you don’t like dogs,” she says, amused. “Seems like he thinks you’re okay.” She looks over at me thoughtfully. “Did you say that Jake Black is fixing up your car? How’d that all happen? You don’t look like the kind of person he would know.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” I stop dead, hands on hips and bracing my weight to keep upright as the dog leans into my hip.

“I didn’t know Jacob knew any blonde cheerleader Barbie dolls…”

“What the hell is your _problem_?” I snapped. “I’m just walking along the beach minding my own business and then you come along and start in with the bitching…you know what? Fuck you.”

Leah passes a hand across her eyes wearily. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m having a really bad day, and you were just there. Which really isn’t any reason for being such a bitch, I know, and I apologise.”

I shrug and start walking again. “Whatever.”

“So how _do_ you know Jacob?” Leah keeps pace with him.

“I don’t really. But I needed some work done on my car, and Bella Swan told me he might be able to help me out.”

“Oh, Bella Swan…” Leah muttered. She looks at me. “You never told me your name.”

“Rosalie,” I say after a pause. “Rosalie Hale.”

“That was some pretty sweet tumbling you did back there, Rosalie Hale. At least until you landed and made me think you’d broken something.”

I give her a wry grin. “I’m lucky I didn’t. I just got out of a cast and I’m not supposed to be doing stuff like that yet…I think the doctor would have killed me if I’d turned up with something else broken.”

“Sounds like a great doctor.”

I shake my head. “No…I live with them- Dr Cullen and his family. He feels a bit parental.”

“I know him.” Leah tosses a stick and the dog lopes after it. “Well Rosalie Hale, it was interesting to meet you. I might see you round.”

“Yeah, looking forward to it,” I say sarcastically, and Leah laughs and blows me a kiss. I shake my head as I head back up the beach to the gap I came through- there’s something about her that makes me think, for all she was so incredibly rude and abrasive, she and I could be friends.

It’s mid-afternoon when Bella drops Alice and I back at the Cullens’ house. Edward and Jasper are throwing a football around outside, and Alice tosses her purse and phone on the steps and runs over to join them. I wave, but I’ve still got sand in my hair and I smell like the sea so I head inside for a shower and a change of clothes.

I half wish I hadn’t come inside though, as I’m immediately greeted with the sound of raised and exasperated voices. Emmett is sprawled out on the sofa in pretty much the same position he was when I left, and judging by the plate full of apple cores and banana peels and the empty bag of chips on the floor by him he’s been there most of the day. Carlisle and Esme are standing between him and the television and neither of them look very happy. I just duck my head and head fast up the stairs as I hear Carlisle start again, his voice tight with frustration.

“It’s all very well and good to have people expressing interest in your ball playing Emmett, but your grades…”

It’s quiet once I’ve finished showering and dressing, but I still tread lightly as I tiptoe downstairs. I can hear Carlisle and Esme talking in the kitchen and the laughing shouts of Alice and Jasper and Edward drift in from outside, but Emmett is still lying on the sofa, now with his arms folded over his face, as I hover uncertainly at the side.

“You can sit down,” he says, his voice a little muffled. “If you want the tv you can have it…I’m not really watching anything.”

I sit lightly on the other end of big sectional sofa, wondering how he knew I was there when he couldn’t see me. “What was that all about?” I ask finally.

Emmett sighs and drops his arms. “The usual,” he answers tiredly. “Me screwing up in school again. Carlisle and Esme trying to get me to hold it together.”

“School’s only been back a week!” I say in surprise. “You can’t have screwed anything up already!”

Emmett pushes himself to a sitting position with a weak laugh. “You’d think! But when you’re on a kind of permanent academic probation thing like I am…” he shrugs. “My guidance counsellor gets reports from all my classes and talks to Esme and Carlisle every week. Even, apparently, the first week.”

I raise my eyebrows. “That’s pretty tough. At least they care, I guess…I doubt my dad even remembers what grade I’m in.”

Emmett looks frustrated. “I know, it’s great they care. But I’m not doing this on purpose, you know…”

“What’s the problem?”

Emmett gives me a look that’s half defiance and half embarrassment. “General stupidity.”

“You’re not stupid,” I say softly. There’s something about the flash of vulnerability I’m seeing in Emmett now that cuts me to the core.

“We share gym, right?” Emmett says flatly. “Sit next to me in math or English or science and you might think differently.” He runs his hands through his hair and then bites on his knuckles for a moment. “I’m just not good at school,” he says quietly. “I never have been. I was way behind the other kids when I started and even though Esme and Carlisle worked their asses off with me and I had tutors and IEPs and whatever else, I never caught up. It took me years to learn to read properly, and when you can’t read you can’t do shit else either. My SATs last year were a joke…they want me to take them again, but I don’t know that there’s any point.”

“Do you want to go to college?” I ask hesitantly.

“That’s the million dollar question Rosalie,” Emmett says seriously. “ _Do_ I want to go to college? I always just wanted to finish school as quickly as I could and get the hell out of there, but I _really_ want to play baseball and there are a few colleges who are looking pretty happy for me to put on their uniforms and play for them. Some of them are even going to give me money to do it.”

“You’re that good?”

“Yeah, I am.” This isn’t Emmett being cocky, this is Emmett stating a fact. “I’ve been working towards this since freshman year. Forks High School isn’t exactly the most competitive team out there, so I’ve had to hustle; lots of camps and clinics and emailing videos around to any one of the college coaches who’ll watch them. It’s paid off though, I _know_ there’s a few out there that want me. Unfortunately, turns out that SAT scores still matter, and keeping up my grades has always been a requirement…I dunno Rosalie.” He looks at me and gives me a lopsided smile. “Sorry. I guess you’ve caught me in a sore moment. It sucks bad enough that I’m the biggest dumbass in Forks, but I really hate disappointing Carlisle and Esme.”

“It’s okay.” I look at him thoughtfully. All of this is new information to me, and I am fascinated by the insight into his character. “I can help you study for the SATs if you decide to redo them.”

Emmett shakes his head. “I bet your scores were great.”

“Pretty good.” I don’t elaborate. Academically I sit quite comfortably around the 80th percentile without making much effort, and I’ve always tested well. “I don’t know that it matters that much though,” I add slowly, feeling an odd desire to share with him since he has been so open with me. “I don’t know what I want to do about college anymore.”

Emmett looks at me. “You seem like the type to have it all figured out.”

I laugh shortly. “I was, once…things change.”

“Can I ask _you_ something?” Emmett eyes me speculatively.

“You can ask,” I say cautiously. “I don’t promise to answer.”

“Okay. What was that about this morning?” He looks at me steadily. “Because you bit my head off, and for what it’s worth I actually DO like your pyjamas.”

Blushing, I squirm uncomfortably. “I’m sorry?” I offer.

Emmett’s eyes crinkle. “Nice deflect there. So do I take it then that I’ve asked a question that doesn’t get an answer?”

“No, I’ll answer,” I sigh. “I had another nightmare last night and Carlisle and Esme are pushing me pretty hard about going to therapy.”

“You don’t want to?”

“Would _you_ want to go to therapy?”

Emmett laughs. “I _went_!”

“Really?” I feel a tiny bit foolish. “You did?”

“Yeah, for nearly a year back when I was a kid,” Emmett gives me a sweet smile. “When your momma chooses meth over you it kind of does a number on you. Therapy’s not that bad. I mean, I guess you probably won’t get to play with so many toys and draw so many pictures as I did, but who knows?”

I laugh a little raggedly. “It helped?”

“Can’t you tell? Aren’t I just the most well-adjusted and mentally healthy example of manhood you’ve ever met?” Emmett grins.

I snort and then Emmett’s eyes widen as I crawl towards him on the sofa. I hide my grin as I reach out and snatch the remote control from his hand and scamper back to my end. My fingers brush across his as I take the remote, and my skin burns at the casual contact.

_What is this between us? Do you feel it too?_

“Sneaky,” Emmett says amiably. “What are you going to make me watch?”

“Anything but sports,” I say cheerfully, and begin flipping through the cable channels as Emmett chuckles.


	15. Therapy

 I don’t know if it’s talking with Emmett or just that I’m giving in to the inevitable, but when I’m called to the office after lunchtime on Tuesday and find Carlisle sitting there waiting to deliver me to my first therapy appointment I don’t even kick up that much of a fuss. I roll my eyes and pout, but follow him out to the car and slide into the front seat.

“I appreciate you being reasonable about this Rosalie,” Carlisle says as he pulls the Mercedes out onto the road. “Your dad and Esme and I are all in agreement that it’s what you need and it’s not optional.”

I sigh loudly, but don’t say anything.

Carlisle draws to a stop in front of a small blue painted house. It’s small and cute, with a window box of colourful flowers and a shady oak tree in the front yard. I look at Carlisle incredulously, since from where we’re parked I can still see the school. “You felt the need to drive me five hundred feet?”

Carlisle laughs. “I’m on my way to work. Kari works out of her house a couple of days a week, and since this is going to be regular occurrence you can just walk here from school and then walk back to get a ride home with the others.”

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” I mutter, slumping a little lower in my seat and twisting the strap of my bag in my hand.

Carlisle taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “It’s going to be fine Rosalie. You’ll like Kari, she’s done a lot of work with survivors and she’s very good. Now, if you’d like I can come in with you…”

“No, no, that’s fine,” I say hastily, pushing open the door and stepping out. “I’m a big girl, I can knock on a door just fine by myself…” I make a face at him and slam the car door and then walk rapidly up the front path towards the white painted door. I hesitate, thinking that maybe I’ll just walk back to school and go to my gym class and watch Emmett for an hour…I half turn around, but Carlisle is still sitting there at the kerb watching me. He grins and salutes me and I fight the urge to give him the finger as I turn and press the doorbell.

I don’t know what I’m expecting, but I’m a little surprised by the tall woman in jeans and a beaded, hand knit sweater who opens the door to me. She’s got lots of curly brown hair in a messy bun, is wearing long drop earrings with red stones, and has a half-eaten hamburger in one hand. “Rosalie?” she says, holding out the hand without the burger. “I’m Kari. Come on in.”

I shake her hand and follow her inside. She leads me through a small living room and then into a slightly larger room, that holds a large desk crowded with papers and unsteady looking piles of books, a locked file cabinet as well as two red, squashy armchairs, a bean bag chair, and a cushioned window seat that overlooks the side yard.

“Take a seat,” she invites, waving her arm. “I’ll just duck back to the kitchen and finish up my lunch if that’s okay. You’re a couple of minutes early and I’ve been running behind all day.”

I shrug. “Whatever.” _Take all the time you need...the less time I have to sit here and not talk to you the better._

I’m too tense to sit down. Instead I drop my bag on the floor and then prowl around the room. I don’t go near the desk, but I quickly scan the titles of books on the bookshelf and then stand by the wall, examining the drawings and notes that little kids have addressed to Kari that cover a large area. I remember Emmett’s teasing comment about drawing pictures and if I wasn’t feeling so sick with nerves I might laugh.

I turn around when I hear footsteps coming, standing with my back to the wall as Kari enters the room. “Sorry about that,” she says, rummaging around on the desk for a notepad and a pen. “I have to squeeze in a bit of lunch whenever I can. How are you doing?”

“Fine thanks,” I say, watching warily as she sits down in one of the armchairs and looks across at me expectantly. For a moment there’s silence, and then it’s broken by her husky laugh. “It’s okay Rosalie, you can sit down. I won’t bite.”

_You probably wouldn’t joke about that if you saw the scar on my breast, you know._

Reluctantly I sit down in the opposite armchair. One of my hands winds its way into my long ponytail, and I try and make the gesture look casual as I twirl the hair around my fingers. I don’t think I fool her.

“So Rosalie, why don’t you start by telling me a bit about why you’re here?” Kari looks at me expectantly.

“Because Carlisle made me come,” I say bluntly.

There’s that husky laugh again. “Okay then…why do you think Carlisle wants you need to talk to me?”

“He didn’t tell you?” I’ve wound my hair so tightly around my fingers and I’m pulling so hard I think I might have cut off my circulation.

“He did actually,” Kari says calmly. “But I was interested to hear what you had to say; although I take it from all this that you’re not really comfortable talking about your experiences? Is that just me, or with everyone?”

“Everyone,” I mutter.

“That’s a mighty big elephant in the room then Rosalie.”

I shrug and don’t answer, watching suspiciously as Kari scribbles a couple of notes on her notepad. I can’t read her writing upside down.

She catches me looking at her and smiles briefly. “We’ll go at your pace Rosalie. We don’t have to dive right into the big stuff…we’ll wait until you’re ready, and that will take as long as it takes. Now, you do know that whatever you say to me in here stays just between us? The only exception to that might be if I believed you were at risk of harming yourself or harming someone else.”

“Well, I’m not,” I say. Even right after it happened I was never suicidal. As for harming others…well. They’re well out of my reach.

“That’s good, that’s something we don’t have to worry about then. How about eating and sleeping? How are you finding that?”

“I eat. I sleep…sort of.”

“Nightmares? Insomnia?” Kari looks up at me.

I fiddle with my hair. “Sometimes.” _Every night._

“General health good? Any physical issues from your injuries? Any prescribed medications for anxiety or depression? Any use of other drugs or alcohol? And please be honest, I’m not here to judge you or tell tales.”

“No,” I shake my head. “I mean, I’m healthy, no drugs, no drinking, everything healed well.” I don’t mention the scars.

“Fantastic.” Kari finishes scribbling down some notes and then smiles at me. “We’ll make today easy Rosalie. I’d like to start by getting to know you a little. Why don’t you tell me something about your family?”

“There’s me and Jasper,” I say slowly, feeling like I’m walking into a minefield even with just that innocent question. “He’s my brother. My twin, but I was born first.” I can’t help my smirk- the fact that I was born first was a thorn in Jasper’s side for years when we were children.

“What about your parents?”

“Oh. There’s just my dad. My mom died when I was eleven.” I brace myself for questions but, at least for now, Kari just nods and after a beat I go on. “I don’t live with my dad right now though. Jasper and I have been staying with the Cullens since the end of the summer vacation.”

“Is that a permanent arrangement?”

“For this school year,” I answer. “After that…I don’t know. College, or…something.”

“And how do you feel about that?” Kari asks. “It would have been a big change to live with a new family and start at a new school. Coming right on top of your trauma that’s a lot to adjust to.”

My trauma? I suppose that’s as good a way to put it as any. “I wasn’t going back to school in Rochester,” I say flatly. “No way in hell. I didn’t really care otherwise, although I didn’t want to go anywhere without Jas.”

“You’re close to your brother, then?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good that he was able to come here with you then, and be a support. What about the Cullens? How are you getting along with them?” Kari looks interested.

“It’s strange being part of that kind of family,” I say, a little hesitantly. “I like them, but it’s really different to what I was used to.”

“In what way?”

“My dad works all the time. I mean, until she retired last year I had more of a relationship with his secretary than I did with him- she at least had my birthday in her calendar and used to ring me to ask me what I wanted dad to buy for me. So it was usually just Jas and I at home once the housekeeper left. At the Cullens’ house there’s always someone around. Esme has a lot of volunteer commitments but they’re mostly during school hours, and she’s like the uber-mom the rest of the time, always cooking and chasing you about laundry and wanting to know how your day was.”

Kari laughs. “That does sound different.”

“Yeah. Carlisle works a lot, but not like my dad. He’s home for dinner most nights and he doesn’t shut himself up in the study all the time either. He talks to his kids.”

“And how are things with his kids? They’re all at high school with you, right? Five teenagers in a house could create a lot of tension,” Kari says thoughtfully.

Tension….I think of Emmett and hope fervently that I’m not blushing. I don’t think that’s the kind of tension she was thinking about. “Edward and Alice are a year younger than Jas and I, and Emmett’s a year older although he’s still in high school,” I say. “Everyone gets on okay. No one has to share bedrooms, so that helps.”

“Mmm, it would. What about school? I know you’ve only just gone back after summer break, but how are you finding it so far? What are your grades like generally? What about friends?”

“The school’s okay,” I say, wondering how many times I’m going to use the word _okay_ before I get out of this room. “My grades have always been pretty good, and I think they will be here too. I’m probably doing more study than I used to do anyway.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“I’m not as busy with other things,” I say tightly. “Last year I was on the cheerleading squad and…my friends…” My voice trails away. That’s heading on to dangerous ground.

“Are you still in touch with any friends from Rochester?” Kari seems to be looking at me intently. “Still in touch with anyone?”

“No.” I grip my ponytail and twist. “No one. It was easier this way.”

“Easier in some ways, probably yes. But you must miss them?”

My lip twists. “Not so much…it turned out a lot of them weren’t really all that great friends.”

Kari lets this go, at least for now. She hasn’t stopped taking notes, and I have the distinct and uneasy impression that nothing I say is getting past her and it’s all going to come back to me.

“Friends here in Forks?”

“I’m not really looking.” I can feel a headache coming on and I rub my temples distractedly.

“Try and relax Rosalie,” Kari says compassionately, stopping her endless note taking for a moment. “I want you to think of this as a safe space for you to work through some of what’s happened in your life. It takes time to build that level of trust, and I’m not going to force you to talk about things you’d rather keep private. I’m not looking to trip you up with my questions or cause you pain. Therapy _can_ be painful- I mean these are not easy things we’re going to talk about, but we’ll go at your pace, when you’re ready.”

“But it’s already not at my pace, is it?” I say, and even though I mean to sound flippant nothing can hide the anger in my voice. “It wasn’t _my_ idea to come here at all. Carlisle and Esme want me to, and my dad would take any route that means he doesn’t have to deal with me himself, so I don’t have a choice.”

“It sounds to me like that makes you angry,” Kari says quietly.

“Of course it makes me angry!” I drum my fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair. “It’s just another damn thing that someone else makes me do when I don’t want to…” And I shut my mouth and bite my tongue hard.

Kari nods. “I can understand why you’d feel that way. The idea of opening up to a stranger is a scary one, especially if you’re feeling pressured into doing it. It was really brave of you to make this first step and come here today.” She considers me for a moment. “From where I am, Rosalie, you seem like a strong young woman who’s been through hell and done a pretty admirable job of holding herself together. But that doesn’t mean you can’t use a helping hand to get yourself into an even better place.”

I suddenly feel exhausted and dangerously close to tears. She sees too much. “Well, I said I’d come and I will,” I mutter. “But I don’t want to talk about…” My words trail away. What I want doesn’t seem to matter.

“We can work on it.” Kari writes something else down, and then places her notepad and pen on the corner of the desk. I guess we’re done. I let out a breath I hadn’t even realised I’d been holding.

“I think I can help you Rosalie,” Kari adds, going over to her desk and rummaging around until she finds her date book. “If you’re agreeable, I think we should start with meeting once a week, see how we go?”

I know I don’t really have a choice. “Okay.”

“Carlisle seemed to think this time of day would work well for you. He said you had a study period and he could arrange for you to leave school early. Is that right with you?”

I nod. It’s as good a time as any. I take the card that Kari has written the appointment on and drop it in to my bag.

“I’ve written my numbers on there for you too,” Kari tells me. “If you need to contact me – and I encourage you to do so if you need anything – use one of those numbers and leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” She hesitates. “I do mean that Rosalie. Anytime.”

“Sure,” I say. “Thanks.” I make sure I’ve got my things and give her a stiff smile. It hasn’t been as difficult as I was afraid of, but the fact remains that I was sent here, and will continue to come here, to do what I don’t ever want to do- remember and talk about what happened to me back on that horrible summer night.


	16. Comfort and Clashes

It’s a few minutes before the final bell when I reach the school, and the parking lot is still deserted. I wish I had keys for the Volvo. I am nearly trembling with a combination of exhaustion and tension and the idea of having to talk to any of the boys who keep offering me rides home is unthinkable. Moving round to the front of the car I sit down on the kerb, wrapping my arms around my knees and letting my head drop forward.

  _I hate this so much…how did I end up like this? What happened to me?_

“Rosalie?” It’s Emmett, crouching on the blacktop in front of me. “You okay?”

I raise my head and meet his blue eyes with my own, and all I can do is wordlessly shake my head. I’m not okay, not now.

“Oh, baby girl…” I don’t think he even realises the endearment has slipped out as his hands impulsively reach towards me, pulling himself up short as I instinctively flinch.

The thing is, I don’t _want_ to flinch away from him. I want to go _towards_ him. I want to feel those strong arms around me and bury my face in that solid, masculine chest and feel whatever this crazy thing is that he makes me feel. But all my demons are there and taunting me with my brokenness, and the words choke in my throat as the tears well in my eyes.

Emmett does touch me then. Moving with infinite care and gentleness he raises a hand and cups it lightly round the side of my face, using his thumb to wipe away the tear sliding across my cheek.

I can’t talk. I can’t make my arms move to invite him closer. All I can do is look at him mutely as I tilt my head ever so slightly and lean into his hand, but I know he knows.

Emmett smiles, and it’s like something in my world shifts. _Oh, you’re beautiful…but I can’t do this, and I’m so, so sorry._

 I don’t know if it’s the dimples, the wide blue eyes with their long, sooty lashes, or that little quirk in his full lower lip, but there is something perpetually innocent in Emmett’s face. I know his history, but it’s as though nothing bad has ever touched him and it comes to me with a sudden, heartbreaking insight who it is he reminds me of. My friend Vera’s little baby boy, sweet little Henry with his curly hair and dimples and manner of looking at you like you were the whole world. The beautiful little baby I’d tickled and kissed and then snuggled close and warm while he slept and I told his mother, my friend, my secrets on what would turn out to be the night my life turned into a nightmare.

“Come on,” Emmett says gently, as someone activates the remote unlock and the Volvo beeps. “Let’s go home.”

I climb into the car without a word. Emmett swings into the front seat beside Edward, who glances at me curiously and then looks away without asking questions. I know he finds me irritating (and the feeling is mutual) but he knows when to keep his mouth shut. A few moments Jasper falls in to the seat beside me and Edward joins the line of cars making their way out of the lot. Alice has cheerleading practice and will get a ride home later.

I can feel Jasper looking at me, but I stay with my face resolutely turned to the window. He is another one who sees too much. It feels like I’ve spent so long trying to glue the broken pieces of myself back together, and now I’m being forced to look at those cracks all over again and I’m so frightened of what it might do to me. A moment later I feel his fingertips touch mine, and when I look down his hand is lying palm up beside me. Closing my eyes I lay my hand on his and feel the pressure of our palms and fingers touching.

“Stop at the grocery store,” Emmett directs Edward.

“Why?” Edward grumbles, but he pulls into an empty space out the front all the same. “Can you be quick please?”

Emmett grins and whips his hand out like a striking snake to ruffle Edward’s hair, something he hates, and ducks out of the car. He’s back in only a few minutes, holding a small paper grocery sack, and with a long string of red licorice hanging out of his mouth. He breaks off a chunk and tosses it to Edward. “Here grouch, sweeten yourself up…Jas? Rosalie? Want some?”

Jasper and I shake our heads, and the rest of the drive home is silent. I just want to get home and go to my room, but as we get out of the car in the garage Emmett trails behind and, when Jasper and Edward go through to the house, Emmett holds out an arm to stop me. He offers me the paper bag he bought at the grocery store with a slightly sheepish smile. “I got this for you. It’s ice cream,” he says quietly. “That’s what Esme used to buy for me…after therapy. It helps.”

He runs a hand through his curls, but his eyes don’t leave my face as I slowly open the bag and peer in. Not only has he bought me ice cream, but it’s peanut butter flavoured…I didn’t even know they made such a thing.

“Thank you,” I say shakily. “This is…really nice of you.” The words are inadequate for what his little act of kindness has made me feel.

“That’s okay.” Emmett looks like he wants to say more, but after bouncing up on his toes for a moment he just gives me a self-deprecating smile and then bounds away from me into the house.

I follow him inside slowly. Taking a spoon from the drawer I sit down at the counter in the deserted kitchen and open my little tub of ice cream. The first taste hits my tongue and I’m hooked- my favourite food in all the world now comes in ice cream. I smile blissfully, and even as my mouth freezes as the ice cream melts on my tongue my heart feels warm because Emmett had done this just for me.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

All the ice cream in the world can’t chase away my nightmares though. After the stress of the day it’s a particularly bad one and no one in the house manages to sleep through the screaming. When morning comes I’m not the only one around the breakfast table looking tired.

It’s a silent ride to school. I have gym first period and would usually walk to class with Emmett, but he has been scowling over a bunch of crumpled papers marked with corrections as we drive and with a mumbled curse he gets out of the car and reluctantly slouches off in the direction of the staff lounge.

“Hey Rosalie.” It’s a boy I recognise from gym but barely know who has fallen into step beside me. “How are you doing?”

“Fine thanks,” I answer frostily. He’s a football player and I’ve heard him joking around with the other members of the team at their table in the cafeteria. I have no interest in befriending these people.

“I heard you turned down a couple of dates to Homecoming,” he says bluntly. “I thought you might be just holding out for a better offer. You know I’m going to be starting quarterback for the game, right?”

“Good for you,” I say blandly. He couldn’t have said anything less likely to impress me if he’d thought about it for a week.

“So, do you want to go to the Homecoming dance with me?”

“No thanks,” I say. I haven’t even spoken to him long enough to remember his name…why would I want to go to a dance with him? And judging by the way he’s pretty much only looked at my boobs I don’t think he’s that interested in getting to know me either, at least not in any way that requires clothes.

“Are you going with someone else?”

“No. I just don’t want to go to the dance at all.”

We have thankfully reached the gym and, not waiting for him to say anything else, I stride across to the bleachers and take a seat a few rows back. They’ll be playing basketball during class and I’m still giving contact sports a miss so I reach into my bag and find my math notebook, preparing to spend the period studying. I don’t mind sitting on the sidelines during gym class. It’s a little noisy, but I can tune out the thud of basketballs and the thump of feet if I need to, and the games provide a good distraction if my thoughts start getting out of control

The games…or watching Emmett out of the corner of my eyes, I have to admit to myself He’s in his element when it comes to physical activity, any physical activity, and seems to play whatever game is on with effortless ease and grace.

I’ve only just found my place in my math book and opened to a fresh page in my notebook when someone comes jogging up the steps to me and I curse under my breath when Neil sits beside me. Despite his continued attempts to engage me, I don’t really like him. He’s part of the pack of football players I try and avoid, and even when he’s on his own he’s too cocksure and pushy for my liking. He seems to feel he has some kind of claim on being my friend and is clearly interested in more, even though I’ve never given him any indication that I return his feelings.

“So what was Travis talking to you about?” He doesn’t look very pleased.

“Is that his name?” I say, bored. “Nothing really- just Homecoming.”

Neil scowls. “Did he ask you to the dance? I told him I was going to ask you.”

“I told him I didn’t want to go with him,” I say, focussing more on the equations that I’m setting out than him.

“Oh, hey great then!” Neil grins enthusiastically. “We can go together, it’ll be fun…”

I lift my face and stare at him. “Neil, I don’t want to go Homecoming. At all.”

“Oh come on Rosalie,” he says, almost impatiently. “I really want to take you.”

I can feel my irritation rise. Why doesn’t he just _listen_ to me? “I’m not interested in going to the Homecoming dance,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m not interested in going out with you at all.”

I am trying to be as unambiguous as possible. I _don’t_ want to go out with him, and I don’t want him to keep asking me. So I find the bluntest way of saying this that I can.

Rather than being hurt though, Neil gets angry. And this is a scenario I know all too well, and one I swore I would never, ever let myself get tangled up in again.  

“What’s your problem?” he asks, aggrieved. “I’ve done nothing but be nice to you since you got here.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to go out with you,” I snap. “I appreciate your help with finding my way around, but that doesn’t mean I owe you a date or anything else!”

“You don’t have to be such a bitch though!” Neil snarls. “Geez, and I’ve been defending you when the other guys were calling you the ice queen.”

“What did you call me?”

 “The ice queen…the way you walk around with your nose in the air like you’re better than everyone, and the way you freeze everyone out who even tries to talk to you. Everyone’s been saying what a bitch and a tease you are, and I’ve been standing up for you. Guess I was wrong though and you…”

I’m on my feet before I realise it. “Don’t you and your goddamn friends dare talk about me!”

Neil shakes his head. “As if I’d bother after this.” He eyes move past me into the gym, and when I look around to see what he’s scowling at I see Emmett walking towards us across the basketball court. Neil looks from him to me and then he gives me a sneering smile. “Well, here comes Cullen. Guess there’s one person the ice queen might melt for… Or maybe two people? There’s been a lot of rumours about you slutting it up with both the Cullen guys...maybe they’re true after all?”

And then I do something I’ve never done before, and bunch my hand into a fist and punch someone right in the face. Hard.


	17. Consequences

The next few moments are chaos. I’m strong and I must have just got in the luckiest hit imaginable, because as my fist smashes into Neil’s nose I hear the crack of breaking bone. He reels back clutching his nose but I’m the one who screams as the blood spurts out between his fingers and spatters on to the bleachers.

“Rosalie!”

Emmett is by my side in seconds. For a brief moment his strong arms wrap around me and I feel his body, rock solid and reassuring, against mine and my breath catches. But he releases me almost immediately and I realise he’s just lifted me up and swung me away from Neil, who is glaring at me furiously over his bloodied hands.

“You stupid, fucking _bitch!”_

 _Oh my god, that’s so much blood…_ I fight down a rising wave of nausea and stare back at Neil defiantly as the Coach comes  racing over, carrying a towel which he thrusts at Neil.

“Here Forbes, let me have a look. What happened?”

“That bitch _hit_ me!” The words are muffled through the towel as he holds it up to his nose to catch the flow of blood.

“What?” The coach spins to stare at me. “Rosalie?”

I realise I’m gripping Emmett’s arm like a vise, and I let my hand drop. “Yes, I hit him.”

The coach shakes his head. “Principal’s office. Both of you. Forbes, you’d better get some ice on that. You probably need a doctor, I think it’s broken.”

Neil makes a howling noise of rage, and I begin shoving my things back in to my bag. My hands are shaking though, and Emmett silently reaches out and helps me. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

“I’m fine,” I say tightly. “It’s just the blood, I don’t like that, not now…” I can smell it, sharp and coppery, and I swallow hard, hoping I will not vomit. The smell of blood brings up too many bad memories, now.

“You want me to call Carlisle?” Emmett asks, slightly uncertainly. “I think they’ll call him anyway…I mean they do, when you fight.”

“You know all about it, huh?” I stand up, holding my bag tightly.

Emmett gives me a lopsided smile. “I’ve had my moments.” He digs around in his pockets. “I’ll call Carlisle. You’d better get going.”

I take my time walking to the principal’s office. Neil, spitting blood and swearing, storms off ahead but I dawdle, trying to settle my racing thoughts and calm my breathing. I’m not sorry I hit him, but all that _blood…_

The secretary, Mrs Cope, waves a hand at me as I enter the front office. “Go on through Rosalie, they’re expecting you,” she says, frowning slightly.

The principal, Mr Greene, is behind his desk when I knock and let myself in. Neil is in a chair in front of him with the school nurse holding a fresh towel and a gel icepack across his face. At least I don’t have to look at him. I set my mouth in a stubborn line and continue to stand, my arms folded and my back against the wall by the door.

“Fighting, Rosalie?” Mr Greene says wearily. “Can you explain this to me?”

I open my mouth but then stop. Actually, I’m not sure I _can_ explain it. I shake my head. “I punched him.”

“So I see. I assume that something led up to this though? You felt you had a reason to turn to violence?”

Judging by the indignant noises of dissent coming from under the towel, Neil doesn’t agree that I had any reason at all. I just shrug and stay silent.

A moment later there’s a knock on the door and Carlisle enters. I’m surprised that he nods to the principal and then ignores Neil completely, despite the blood still blooming crimson all over the towel, and turns straight to me. I’m braced for him to be angry, my father would be _furious_ to be called down to school for any reason, let alone fighting, but Carlisle’s face is nothing but concerned.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Carlisle is standing between me and the rest of the room, and is eyeing me intently. His voice is tense. “Did he do something to trigger you? Did he touch you?”

I shake my head, confused. “No. He…he asked me to Homecoming…”

Carlisle’s jaw drops. “He asked you to a dance and you broke his nose?”

“It’s not like that!” The adrenaline is wearing off and my hand is beginning to ache. I look down at it, noticing that my knuckles are red, darkening to purple, and there are two tiny splits in the skin, drops of blood welling up and smearing across the bony bumps.

Carlisle takes my hand gently in his and examines it. “Wiggle your fingers,” he tells me. “And please, explain what it IS like, Rosalie.”

I wiggle my fingers. My hand is going to bruise, but there’s no real damage. “I said no and he wouldn’t back off,” I say, trying not to let my voice shake. “He got angry and he said things, so I hit him.”

Carlisle turns away from me and moves towards Neil. “I need some ice for Rosalie’s hand please,” he says to the nurse, peeling back the towel to look at Neil’s face. I hear Neil swear as Carlisle turns his head from side to side. “It’s broken,” he tells him. “When your mother gets here you’ll have to come down to the hospital so we can put you back together.”

Neil glares at me as Mr Greene indicates one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Please take a seat Rosalie.”

I sit, perched tensely on the edge of the plastic chair. The nurse comes in with another of the gel packs wrapped in a length of gauze and some cotton wool soaked in alcohol and comes to stand beside me. “Give me a look,” she says, and I reluctantly hold out my hand so she can dab some alcohol on the cuts. It stings, and I’m glad when she lays the gel pack across my knuckles and wraps the gauze around my hand to keep it in place.

“It’s going to be sore for a while,” she tells me. “You clearly didn’t hold anything back.” There’s a flash of amusement in her eyes as she looks at me and when I look at it from her perspective I can understand why. I’m tall for a girl and strong, but I’ve got nothing on Neil who is a linebacker on the football team and must outweigh me by eighty pounds. When you look like I do, no one looks at you and considers that maybe there is strength or brains under all that blonde prettiness.

“So what happened?” Mr Greene is looking at me, but it’s Neil who answers.

“She hid be!” he exclaims. “I didden do adythig!”

He can’t breathe through his nose and he’s so stuffed up when he tries to talk that it takes me a moment to understand he’s just said that I hit him, and he didn’t do anything.

“Rosalie?”

“He asked me to go to Homecoming with him,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “I said no, that I didn’t want to go, but he wouldn’t back off.” I feel that I’m starting to clench my fist under the ice pack and I force my fingers to lie flat.

Neil retorts something, but this time no one can understand him and then the door opens and a woman I presume is his mother comes storming in. “You better not have been fighting again Neil!”

“Id wadden be!” Neil says, pulling the ice pack and towel off his face and glaring at me. “Id wad _her_.”

His mother eyes me incredulously. “What has been going on here? Dr Cullen, is this your daughter?”

I sit up straighter as Carlisle explains that he’s my guardian, and tells her that she should take Neil to the hospital to get his nose attended to. Mr Greene tells her that Neil doesn’t appear to have laid a hand on me and that they’ll deal with his part in the whole situation tomorrow morning when he comes back to school. To Neil he says that he wants him in the office first thing, and then they’ll get to the bottom of it. Then Mrs Forbes and Neil leave, and it’s just Mr Greene, Carlisle and I looking at each other in silence.

“I’m sorry Carlisle, I don’t have an option here. Zero tolerance policy for violence and she broke his nose. I’m going to have to suspend her.” Mr Greene sounds genuinely regretful.

“I don’t care,” I mutter. “He deserved it. He’s been talking about me with his friends and when I said no to him he didn’t listen. When someone says _no_ …” I bite my lip hard. I can’t finish that thought, and I see the flash of compassion cross Carlisle’s face. He knows why this matters to me so much.

“I understand why you were angry Rosalie, but you have to admit that violence isn’t the answer,” Mr Greene begins.

“Oh, I understand _that_ ,” I say tightly. “I think I understand a whole lot more about violence than most people.”

Mr Greene exchanges glances with Carlisle and it occurs to me that he must have been given some explanation for my enrolment here, and the medical exemptions that have kept me from doing gym. It’s possible he spoke to the principal at my old school when they sent my records here and got the whole sorry tale from him. I have to grit my teeth to stop myself screaming at the idea of so many people knowing my secrets.

Maybe he can tell by my face that I’m very close to the edge, because he sits up straight and folds his hands before he says briskly, “I’m going to give you a three day suspension Rosalie. I have no choice about that. But it won’t go on your permanent record and Neil will be dealt with too. He won’t bother you again.”

  “Thank you, Adrian,” Carlisle says smoothly. “I appreciate it, and I’m sure Rosalie does too.”

“Anytime Carlisle. Sorry to call you down here during the day, although of course it’s always good to see you. All the rest of yours seem to be settling back into school well for the year…I haven’t seen Emmett in here yet, anyway!”

Both of them laugh, and Carlisle says “He’s trying Adrian, he really is. He knows that all the interest the college ball coaches have shown won’t lead to anything if he doesn’t keep his grades up. We’re trying to convince him that if he retakes the SATs he’ll probably get a better result and that can only help him too.”

“Well, he’d better do it then,” Mr Greene nods. “”Cause I’ve never seen the like of that kid on the ball field, and it would be a shame to see all that God given talent go to waste.”

“That’s what we’ve been telling him,” Carlisle says with a sigh, and then rises to his feet. “Come on Rosalie. Do you want to get anything from your locker before you go home?”

I go to my locker and bundle up most of my books. Three days at home alone stretches out endlessly before me, and I think I may as well get some studying done. They’re heavy in my arms as I trudge out the front door and find Carlisle leaning casually against the railings.

“I have to go back to work,” he tells me. “I’ve called Esme and she’s on her way to pick you up.”

“Thank you,” I say stiffly. He doesn’t seem angry at me, but I know that I’ve inconvenienced him. “I’m sorry you had to come down here,” I say at last.

Carlisle tilts his face up the meagre sunshine. “Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t bad timing actually, I’m waiting on a baby and it’s taking its time. I’ve left mom in the capable hands of the nurses and hopefully when I get back we’ll be a bit closer to the big moment.”

I don’t want to think about that.

“What did you mean before?” I ask hesitantly. “When you asked me if he’d done something to trigger me?”

“When someone has PTSD they sometimes have intense physical and emotional reactions to situations that don’t necessarily warrant them,” Carlisle tells me. “It might be an event, a smell, a sight, even just something you think, but it triggers your memories of the trauma and you react accordingly.”

“You think I have post-traumatic stress disorder?” I say sceptically. No one has ever said this to me.

“Yes, I do,” Carlisle says steadily. “When people go through a traumatic event their mind and body will go into shock. That’s absolutely normal. With time people make sense of what happened and process their emotions and move on. PTSD occurs when that doesn’t happen, when a person gets ‘stuck’ if you will, with those intense reactions and emotions. That’s you Rosalie. The panic attacks, the nightmares, the insomnia, the way you’re so constantly wound up and nervy…these are all natural reactions to trauma, but in your case they’re not getting better, they’re disrupting your life to an unbearable degree, and they are not _going_ to get better unless you face what happened and deal with all your emotions.”

I absorb this. “Do you think that’s why I hit Neil?”

Carlisle shrugs. “Would you have reacted like that last year to someone who did the same thing?”

Of course I wouldn’t have. I’ve always had a temper, but I’ve never gone around punching people for just mouthing off. “No,” I say quietly. “I wouldn’t have done that then.”

Carlisle smiles compassionately. “This is why I want you having sessions with Kari. Not because I want to hurt you by making you remember things you want to forget, but because I know you’re never going to forget them and the only way for you is to learn to live with them.”

Esme pulls up in her Audi then so I’m saved from having to answer him. But he’s given me a lot to think about, and as Esme drives me home and the gel pack grows tepid on my aching knuckles I find myself mulling it all over. 


	18. A Good Place

“Rosalie! Where are you? Oh my god, _everyone’s_ been talking about you _all_ day!” Alice’s excited voice rings out from the garage even before she comes dancing into the kitchen and makes a beeline for me, the boys close on her heels. “What on earth _happened?”_

I’ve just finished working out, and I’m standing by the sink drinking water. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?!” Alice exclaims gleefully. “I wouldn’t call breaking Neil Forbes nose _nothing!_ ”

Jasper is looking at me in concern, but as he sees that I’m calm he too relaxes. He raises his eyebrows at me in silent question, and I nod slightly. _I’m okay._

“Rosalie, you have to tell me all about it,” Alice begs. “Please! Everyone’s talking about you! I must have been sent the photos a hundred times.”

“Photos?” I say sharply, my stomach clenching.

“It’s okay,” Jasper says quickly, his eyes intent. “It’s not…that.” He knows where the idea of photos has taken my memory, and it’s not good.

“Look!” Alice whips out her phone and holds it up. “Check it out.”

I take the phone from her, my lip curling in distaste. Someone in gym must have had their phone with them because it’s a photo of me with my fist clenched and Neil with his hands over his face and blood dripping between his fingers. Alice flips through her text messages and I realise with growing horror that several people must have pulled out their phones for the spectacle, because there are several other photos of me looking enraged and Neil splattering blood across the gym.

“Ugh.” I hand Alice back her phone. “That’s disgusting.” I am unnerved all over again by the amount of blood.

“What did he _really_ do?” Alice asks. “I’ve heard a million different versions of what happened, but no one really knows. Neil can be such an ass, it’s hardly surprising someone finally had enough of him, but I wouldn’t have expected it to be _you_!”

I shrug uneasily. “I don’t want everyone talking about me.”

Alice bites her lip. “I promise I won’t gossip,” she says with a sigh. “I _can_ keep secrets if I try.”

“There’s really not much to tell,” I say. “Honestly, he asked me to go to the Homecoming dance with him and I didn’t want to. He was being a real dick about me saying no, and I got fed up with him and punched him.”

Alice laughs delightedly. “I just wish I’d seen it! He always did think he’s God’s gift to the girls. And you really broke his nose? That wasn’t an exaggeration?”

“Carlisle said it was broken,” I say, taking an apple and biting in to it. It’s taken practically two and a half months but as long as I’m careful I can eat hard food again.

“So you don’t want to go to Homecoming with Neil,” Alice says. “But you’ll come with me and Jas, right?”

I raise my eyebrows at Jasper and note the slightly sheepish look on his face. “I didn’t know you two were going to Homecoming together.”

“Well, with Edward and Bella too. Just a group thing,” Jasper says, but the way his neck is slightly mottled with embarrassment I think there’s more going on here than I’m fully aware of.

“We’d love to have you come with us!” Alice exclaims enthusiastically. “Do you have a dress? I can do your hair…”

“I don’t want to go,” I interrupt her. “Really Alice, I don’t.”

Alice’s face falls. “But it will be so much fun!”

I shake my head. “Not this time. You go and have fun, but I just want to give it a miss.”

Alice is disappointed, but I’m staunch in my refusal. There is no way I am going to this dance. She’s slightly mollified when I say I will be going to the game - Carlisle and Esme are going to watch Alice cheer, and I’ve said I’ll go with them- and she trips out of the room and upstairs. Edward and Jasper have long since vanished, leaving only Emmett, sitting at the bench steadily working his way through his second bowl of (wholegrain, organic) cheerios.

“How’s your hand?” he asks.

I hold it out to him so he can see my purple knuckles. “Sore,” I admit. “But it’s only a bruise, it’s not too bad.”

Emmett shakes his head. “Where’d you learn to punch like that? I couldn’t believe it when I saw it happen…you completely nailed him.”

I finish my apple and toss the core into the bucket Esme keeps for compost. “I’ve never hit anyone like that,” I admit. “Honestly, I was just lucky…I probably couldn’t do it again if I tried.”

Emmett laughs and drinks the milk out of his bowl, but his smile fades as he finishes it and puts it down on the bench. “I heard what he said,” he says abruptly. “Just before you hit him, what he said about you and…me. And Edward.”

I can’t look at him. When it comes to Emmett my thoughts and feelings are so complex and tangled I can’t even begin to really understand them. But from this thorny base is growing a tentative, fragile friendship that, despite what my mind says, my heart suddenly wants desperately. I am horrified by the idea of people talking about the two of us, of making this amorphous and beautiful thing between us into something crude or dirty.

“I’m glad you hit him before I did,” Emmett says flatly. “But I’m sorry you got in trouble for it.”

I shrug. “It’s not so bad. Three days…and it won’t go on my permanent record.”

Emmett nods as he puts his cereal bowl in the dishwasher and then the cereal box away in the pantry. “Don’t let it bother you,” he says kindly. “All the gossip and talk…it’s all just bullshit. It doesn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t matter.”

That’s easy for him to say. No one would say a bad word against Emmett. I’ve watched him at school and Emmett, despite not being part of any particular group, is universally well-liked. He’s the most sociable loner I’ve ever seen, moving from group to group and being accepted everywhere. Even today, Neil wasn’t insulting _Emmett_ with what he said. But in the end it’s all just words, and I have to make it not bother me. At least I’ve got a few days away from school to think about everything.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

By the third day of my suspension I think I’m going to go mad if I don’t get out of the house. I’ve done all the studying I can cope with and I’ve danced and run on the treadmill until my legs feel like jelly, but nothing can calm the restlessness. I wish I could get out of here, just go somewhere…I think longingly of my car, and the wide, empty beach down at La Push.

“Esme,” I ask hesitantly, finding her in the kitchen peeling vegetables for dinner. “Can I borrow your car for a little while? Or do you think Emmett would mind if I took the Jeep if you need yours?” I’ve never asked for a favour like this before.

“You’re welcome to take the Audi,” Esme says. “Where are you off to?”

“I want to take a drive out to La Push and go for a walk on the beach,” I tell her. “I’ll check on my car while I’m out there too I think.”

“The keys are on the hook by the door. Will we expect you home for dinner?” Esme asks.

I say yes and then bolt upstairs to get a hoodie before I snatch the keys and go into the garage. It’s been grey and raining today, and I think it will probably be cold out on the beach.

The Audi drives smooth and fast once I’m through Forks, and it isn’t long before I’m slowing down as I go through the Quileute’s town. I do want to check on my car but it occurs to me that Jacob Black will probably be in school, so I head straight to the beach.

I don’t tumble along it today. Instead I wander slowly, picking up the occasional stone or shell to look at it before dropping it again. Ahead I can see the remains of a massive tree that’s somehow been washed ashore and I quicken my steps to reach it. The thing is enormous, completely dwarfing me and all the other surrounding driftwood (which is already like nothing I’ve ever seen before) with a hollow trunk that I could walk inside if I wanted to. Instead I scramble my way up to the top and sit for a while, huddled in my hoodie against the cold wind as I watch the waves.

“Hey, it’s cheerleader Barbie again! What are you doing down this way?”

I turn my head with a scowl. Leah Clearwater has silently made her way up on to the trunk and is standing a few feet away. Below us I can see Boo Boo the dog bounding along the water’s edge; at least up here I’m out of the way of his jaws.

“Rosalie,” I say to her with teeth clenches. “My name is _Rosalie_. And I didn’t come to the beach for more of your shit.”

Leah sighs. “I do owe you an apology,” she says a little stiffly. “I _was_ pretty rude the other day.”

It seems like that’s all the apology I’m going to get, so I shrug and look back out to sea. Whatever. I am surprised though when Leah sits down beside me.

“So what _are_ you doing here?” she asks casually. “Shouldn’t you be at school? Seth told me you went to Forks high.”

“I got suspended,” I tell her, “I punched someone.”

Leah looks impressed. “I wouldn’t have thought it of you! Catfight?”

“You make a lot of assumptions,” I say irritably. “No, it wasn’t a catfight. He’s a football player. I broke his nose because he asked me to Homecoming and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” I scowl at the memory. “I hate boys.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place for female bitterness,” Leah says. Her voice sounds light and joking, but there’s a thread of steel underneath that speaks to me. She means what she says. “Although I don’t know that someone asking you to a school dance is really worth that kind of fury.”

“What’s your excuse then?” I snap irritably.

“Asshole ex-boyfriend,” Leah says drearily.

“I think that’s something I know more than I want to about,” I mutter, my hand going instinctively to my face. But it’s smooth and unmarked now, and I let my fingers drop.

“Don’t we all?” Leah turns and stares at the ocean.

“Well, this is excellent,” I say sarcastically. “Thanks for cheering me up…you’ve got a real gift.”

I don’t know if I expect Leah to laugh or hit me, but after staring at me for a moment there’s a flash of white teeth as she grins. “That’s me. Always thinking of others.”

I check my watch. “Do you think Jacob might be back from school yet? I wanted to see how my car’s going while I’m here.”

“I’m not his babysitter, but he’ll probably be home,” Leah says. We don’t say anything, but after I inch past her to work my way down the enormous trunk, she scrambles down after me and we fall into step together as we head back up the beach.

“Why aren’t you at school?” I ask.

“I’m finished,” Leah says smugly. “I graduated last year.” She whistles for the dog, and Boo Boo flings up his head, scattering sand and water droplets everywhere and then bounds towards us.

“So what do you do now?” I watch the dog uneasily, glad when he runs to Leah’s other side.

“Nothing,” Leah’s voice turns hard. “Look for a job, but it’s not as though there’s that much going here at La Push or even in Forks.” She takes a deep breath and buries her hand in the thick fur of the dog walking beside her. “Sorry. That’s not your problem. And I’d think, going on your “send the bills to daddy” directive, it’s not ever going to be.” Leah’s look is half teasing and half challenging.

“Yeah, my dad could always give me a job if I needed one,” I say candidly. “But he’s also a complete ass, so there is that. It’s not all silver spoons and restored muscle cars when you’re one of the privileged.”

Leah laughs. “I wouldn’t know.” She pauses and then said slowly, “My dad died a couple of months ago. He wasn’t an ass though.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, surprised by this flash of openness and truth. “I know how that is. My mom died when I was eleven.”

“Well, I’m sorry about that,” Leah shrugs. “My mom’s a nurse- she works with Dr Cullen at the hospital in Forks and at the baby clinic here.” She looks at me curiosity. “What’s it like living with him? I hear their house is something amazing.”

“The house is gorgeous. Huge and light and airy and beautiful- Esme has an amazing eye for decorating. Living with Dr Cullen is okay,” I shrug. “He and Esme are both a bit more up in my business than I’m used to with my dad, but they mean well.”

The two of us leave the beach and head down the path that leads to the Black’s house. “I’m going to come and see if Seth is there,” Leah says a little defensively. “I’m not stalking you.”

“Whatever, it’s your town not mine,” I say. I’m a little surprised when I realise I honestly don’t mind her company. She’s abrasive and can be downright rude, but after every one treating me so delicately for so long it’s surprisingly empowering to have someone who is clearly completely unconcerned about any perceived fragility on my behalf.

Jacob Black’s garage door is propped open, and I can hear the music spilling out from inside. I stand in the doorway for a moment and see my car, the hood up and most of the insides spread out over the floor. Jacob has his back to me, examining something over at the bench, and Seth is there with him. Boo Boo yelps and bounds across the garage to him, and the two of them turn around, eyes widening in surprise as they see Leah and I.

“Hey, you don’t want to look at it now!” Jacob is suddenly at my elbow, smiling at me a little self-consciously. “We haven’t done anything yet!” He scratches his face, leaving a streak of grime across his high cheekbones.

“How can you say that?” I murmur. “You’ve pulled it all apart into tiny little pieces.” I look at the mess a little bit doubtfully, and Jacob chuckles.

“You come back at the other end of the weekend and it’ll all be back together again,” he says confidently. “I promise. I got the new parts delivered during the week and everything else is cleaned and ready to go. Honest Rosalie, you don’t need to worry.” 

“I’m not worried,” I say, smiling at him and watching the wave of red suffuse his cheeks. “I’m not really here to check up on you. I came to go to the beach, and I thought I’d stop by and see how you were going with my car.”

Jacob waved at it. “Well, as you can see we’re well on the way.”

I go and inspect the pieces of engine that are laid out in some particular way that’s meaningless to me, but clearly important to Jacob since he winces and clasps his hands together anxiously when I dare to pick something up. “Do you want a hand?” I ask, unexpectedly.

“Do you know anything about cars?” Jacob asks.

“I know something about cars,” I say. “I don’t, necessarily, know anything about how to rebuild an engine that belongs in one.”

Jacob laughs and looks across at Seth. “Well, I guess if I can teach that bonehead how to make himself useful I can teach anyone…how ‘bout I find you some overalls to keep your clothes nice and give you a lesson?”

I smile at him and pull on the grimy, too-big overalls he offers me. It’s a long way from Rochester, but as the rain begins to fall and patters steadily on the tin roof while Jacob and Seth show me how to use a wrench and Leah watches with amusement and throws in sarcastically teasing comments, I think maybe I’ve found a good place. 


	19. Homecoming

“Rosalie, are you ready yet? It’s time to go.” Jasper is standing in the doorway of my room, tapping his watch impatiently.

“Nearly…” I answer, yanking on a pair of boots and backing out of my closet, carrying a jacket. “Oh, nice sweatshirt,” I say sarcastically, taking in the Forks Spartans logo on Jasper’s sweatshirt. “Good to see you getting into the high school spirit, Jas.”

“Give it a rest,” he says to me good naturedly. “Alice got it for me.”

“Oh well, if _Alice_ got if for you,” I smirk. “By all means wear it, if _Alice_ likes Spartans sweatshirts…” I look at Jasper speculatively. “You still haven’t told me what’s going on with you two.”

Jasper flips me the bird. “None of your business,” he says cheerfully.

“Jaspeeeerrr….” I whine, but before I can go any further Edward comes hurrying along behind us.

“Carlisle and Esme are waiting,” he tells us.

The three of us join them in the garage, climbing into the back seat of the Mercedes. Alice left with some other cheerleaders hours ago, and Emmett took off in the Jeep a little earlier too, planning to meet up with friends at the game.

I feel jumpy and unsettled as we drive to the high school, and it’s only made worse when we pull into the jammed parking lot and slowly follow the line of cars to the places at the very back to find a spot. Everywhere I look there are crowds of people in supporter gear, laughing and talking as they head towards the field. It’s a much smaller school and community than in Rochester, but it seems like everyone loves high school football. It’s Homecoming, and home is all I can think about as the sights and sounds and smells swirl around me.

Everyone else is cheerful and excited. Carlisle and Esme have their hands clasped between them as they stroll along the path towards the field, calling out greetings to a lot of people we pass by. Even Jasper and Edward are laughing with each other. I shove my hands deep in my pockets and follow them up through the stands until we find a row with enough space for the five of us.

The stands are loud with pre-game excitement, and under cover of all the noise Jasper leans towards me. “You okay, Rose?”

“I’m fine.” He’s not really looking at me and I follow his line of sight down to the field, to where the cheerleaders are warming up and milling around… _Alice._

“What’s really going on with you and Alice?” I ask him. “Do you like her? I mean, you’re going to the dance with her, and you’re always talking about what she says or what she thinks...”

Jasper shrugs, a small smile playing over his lips. “I don’t know what’s happening. Honestly Rose, I don’t. The dance is just a group thing, we’re going with Edward and Bella.”

“Bella likes Edward,” I tell him, and smirk as I watch his eyebrows arch in surprise. “So maybe there’s more to this ‘group’ date than you think.”

Jasper shrugs again, and I can see the idea doesn’t really bother him. Maybe he is developing feelings for Alice, but if he is he’s not going to tell me about them now. I resolve to pay more attention from now on and then sit back, scanning the crowd.

I don’t realise that I’m subconsciously looking for Emmett until I see him fooling around with some friends on the other side of the field, his curly hair and broad shoulders standing out in the crowd. As I watch he bends his head low towards the girl sitting beside him, and I feel the acidic bite of jealousy as she puts her hand on his arm and laughs up into his face. Hastily I turn my eyes away.

Neil is down on the field with the coach. He’s not playing today, and it’s easy to see why. His nose is taped and even from up in the stands I can see the bruising on it, along with two black eyes. I know he’s not looking in this direction but I slink a little lower in the seat anyway…I think I’m going to have to avoid him at school on Monday.

The teams run out and the game starts. The teams are quite evenly matched which makes it a reasonably good game, but I’m not watching the players. From the first moment they moved into position my eyes have remained trained on the cheerleaders, and I’m watching them with my heart aching because this was my world and now it’s all gone. And maybe it was awful and brought the monsters into my life, and maybe I’m the one who ran away…but there were beautiful parts to it too and sitting here in the cold stands on a grey Forks afternoon I have to admit how much I miss it.

The Forks cheerleaders are not even that good. Individually some of the girls are okay – Alice is very good, I would have had her as a flyer on my squad – but the student population of Forks is so small compared to my school in Rochester that they just don’t have the pool of talent to pull from. And we took cheering really seriously, competing in regional and state finals and even making nationals last year and that’s not something they do here. Even so, I lean forward on my seat and watch them with fierce concentration, my heart racing as I remember what it was like to be out there.

Midway through the half-time show I’ve had enough. Carlisle and Esme have brought sodas and hotdogs and distributed them to the boys and I, so I give the left over half of my hotdog to Jasper and tell him I’m going to the bathroom. Pushing through the crowd I leave the stands and work my way past the concession stands and to an empty bench I can see a short distance away. With a sigh I sit down, pulling my legs up and hugging my knees. For a moment I rest my forehead against my knees, letting my hair fall forward until it obscures everything around me.

_I want to go home._

“You really don’t like football then?” It’s Emmett, standing in front of me with an enormous soda in one hand and half a hotdog in the other.

I shake my head. “It’s not that.” I remember the girl he was talking to earlier and say, “ _You_ seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

Emmett looks surprised by my bitchy tone. “The game’s alright.” He hesitates. “Mind if I sit?”

I shrug. “Go ahead. It’s a free country.” I want to roll my eyes at my own pettiness. I sound like a nine year old.

“Want a bite?” Emmett drops onto the bench beside me and offers me what’s left of his hotdog, and then holds out his soda cup. “Or are you thirsty?”

“Thanks,” I say, taking the soda and having a drink. “You can keep the hotdog though.” I try to smile.

Emmett finishes the hotdog and then stretches his legs out before him. We can hear that the game is starting again, but neither of us make any move to go back.

“Won’t your friends be wondering where you are?” I ask finally.

Emmett shrugs. “They’ll survive. I know I’m great to have around, but they’ll just have to make do with each other.”

I laugh, shaking my head, but can’t resist saying, “But what about _her?_ That girl you were talking to? She might not want to make do with someone else.”

Emmett’s eyes crinkle up and his dimples deepen with his smile. “I think she’ll be quite happy with Brady. I mean, they’ve been going together since last year, so I guess she _must_ see something in him that I don’t…”

“Ah.” I feel both foolish and unaccountably pleased. “Well then.”

There’s a long silence, and I’m starting to squirm when Emmett says, “So what are you doing sitting out here? You really don’t even want to be within viewing distance of a football game?”

I rest my chin in my knees. “I used to go to every football game,” I tell Emmett slowly. “I was a cheerleader.”

Emmett’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Really?” He sounds genuinely amazed.

“Yes!” I laugh, half insulted by his apparent shock. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong!” Emmett says hastily. “I mean, you’d look _really_ great in a cheerleader outfit and everyone would want to watch you, but you’re not…you’re a bit…well, you’re not like Alice,” he says, obviously trying to find the right words that will get across his meaning without insulting me. “You’re not… _perky_ or cheerful like she is. I mean, you’re kind of fierce…you seem like you’d be the sort of cheerleader who would jump the fence and punch people in the face for not cheering, you know?”

I laugh, half because it’s funny and half because I just want to cover up the fact that I’m blushing because he’s thought about what I would look like in a cheerleader outfit. “I’m a really good cheerleader! My squad made it to nationals last year and they voted me captain for this year…no one can keep up a smile while they’re doing a tumbling run like I can!” I protest.

Emmett’s eyes are bright. “That’s something I’d like to see,” he says wickedly.

“Well don’t get your hopes up!” I say, but then my giggle turns shaky and for a brief moment I hide my face. “I guess things change though.”

Emmett’s face turns serious, and he slurps up the last of the soda before he says suddenly, “You want to get out of here? I’ve got the Jeep and I’ll take you home if you want.”

I hesitate. “You don’t mind?”

Emmett smiles gently. “I can live without watching the end of this football game. And I came and watched Alice cheer, so Carlisle and Esme can’t complain. Come on, let’s go.”

I just to my feet and follow him to the parking lot, sending a quick text to Jasper to tell him what I’m doing and that I’ll see him at home. Emmett’s Jeep is easy to spot, and I scramble up into the passenger seat and manage to fasten the harness without help.

“Thanks for this,” I say, after several silent minutes of driving. I don’t look at him as I talk. “I really didn’t want to be there anymore.”

“Do you miss it?” Emmett asks abruptly. “Cheerleading, going to games, your home…everything.”

I hesitate, not sure how to answer this. “I miss some things,” I say in a low voice. “But I didn’t lose them because I came here…I came here because they were already lost. And there’s no going back.”

It comes back to me with dizzying clarity what it was like when it was me out there on the field, performing with the squad and hearing the crowd roar for us, then watching the football players come out and cheering the game. Kissing the quarterback because he was _my_ quarterback, and knowing that everyone in the stands was watching and all those girls were wishing they were me. I fold my arms across my chest and stare unseeingly out the window as we speed through the forest back to the Cullens’ house.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say, when we get back to the house, untangling myself from the harness. “I appreciate it.”

“That’s cool.” Emmett shrugs. “Do you want to hang out? Watch a dvd or something?”

“Sure,” I say slowly. “I’ll just go upstairs and put on something more comfortable.”

Emmett’s eyes gleam with amusement. “By all means, go and slip into something more comfortable!”

I snort with laughter, and run upstairs. “I didn’t mean it like that!” I call over my shoulder, shaking my head. I walked right into that one. But I take off my jeans and put on my fleecy pyjama pants with the rainbows and sheep on them, and my old grey thermal and tie my hair up into a ponytail. I want to be warm and cosy and comfortable, and it’s just Emmett…I’m not trying to impress him.

Emmett can’t believe I’ve never seen Ghostbusters and insists it’s a cinematic classic that I can’t possibly live without watching at some point. I humour him and agree to watch, but it turns out I actually like it a lot. Emmett, who has a sixth sense for ferretting out Esme’s hidden snacks, finds us some things to eat, and the two of us are both stretched out on the sofa, laughing and eating caramel popcorn when the door bangs open and Jasper, Edward, Esme and Carlisle return.

“You’re okay then, Rosalie?” Carlisle asks.

I nod. “Yes thanks. I’m fine. I was just a bit…yeah. Emmett offered to bring me home.”

“Hey, Ghostbusters!” Jasper says enthusiastically. “Move up Rose, give me some space so I can watch too.”

He nudges my foot and I swing round and sit up on the sofa so he can sit beside me. Emmett is propped up on one elbow and now that I’m sitting up like this his head is practically in my lap. My fingers itch with the desire to stroke the curly hair that looks so soft and appealing, but I put my hands under my thighs and lean a little closer to Jasper.

“Are you really okay?” he says in a low voice.

“I didn’t want to watch anymore,” I say, my voice equally as soft. “The cheering, the whole thing…it was too much.” I meet his eyes briefly, and my voice drops to the lightest whisper. “I miss it, Jasper, I miss the way it was.”

He places his hand, palm up, on the sofa between us and I place my hand in his with a sigh. _Thank you._ I wonder how it is he always knows so perfectly just what I need from him. For the rest of the movie I sit, my hand in Jasper’s, and feeling the heat of Emmett close by on my other side. At least for a little while I’m safe and happy, and the nightmares recede a little.


	20. A Night In

 Alice and Bella arrive later. It turns out Forks actually won the game, and victory along with the prospect of the evening’s dance has Alice nearly hysterical with excitement.

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want to come, Rosalie?” Alice wheedles, sitting on top of Emmett on the sofa and beaming at me. “It’s not too late to change your mind! We’ll find you something to wear and…”

“Do I have to break _your_ nose?” I say in exasperation. “I don’t want to go to the dance, Alice!”

Alice pouts, and then pokes Emmett who is lying passively beneath her while she perches on his back. “What about you? Made up your mind yet?”

“Not going,” Emmett grunts. “I’m going to stay home.”

“Good,” Esme chimes in, coming in to the living room and smiling at him. “You can do a draft of that English work you didn’t hand in on Friday and then I can go over it with you tomorrow.”

Emmett buries his face in the sofa cushion with a groan, and Alice giggles and then drops a kiss on his curly hair. “Of course you’re not going,” she says archly. “Not _now_.” And she gives me a pointed look that I studiously ignore.

“All of you should go into the kitchen and have some dinner,” Esme tells them, holding up a hand to stifle protest as she adds, “Go on Alice, you’ll still have plenty of time to get ready after you eat! I’ve made some spaghetti.”

I don’t hesitate. Esme’s spaghetti is as good as everything else she cooks, and I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of home cooked meals. Back at home Jas and I are on first name terms with every local take out restaurant and their delivery people give _us_ Christmas cards.

As I eat I do wonder why Emmett’s not going to the dance. Is Alice right, and it’s because of me? This idea disturbs me, especially combined with the sharp stab of jealousy I felt earlier in the day when I thought he was with that girl at the football game. It’s all such a mess! I can’t deny, when I look at him laughing and teasing Edward, that I want him. I can’t deny that earlier, both of lying on the sofa with our heads together while we shared the bowl of popcorn, I was acutely, tinglingly conscious of his physical proximity and that along with my relief that he didn’t push anything there was an odd sense of disappointment that he didn’t. All of that is me though…I don’t want him to want me, because I know I’m never going to be able to give him what he will want. Losing my appetite I take what’s left of my dinner and scrape it in to the garbage before I put my bowl in the dishwasher and head upstairs.

I read on my bed, only half listening to Bella and Alice talking in the bathroom as they get ready for the dance. Bella isn’t in to the fancy make up and jewellery that Alice is pushing on her, but in the end she gives in and lets her do what she wants. I’m called in at the last minute to braid Bella’s hair, which I do while Alice expertly paints her own face.

“You both look great,” I say sincerely.

Bella gives me a grateful smile. “Thanks for the braid.” She fiddles with a bracelet and makes a face at her reflection. “Alice, do I really need all this? Really?”

“Yes,” Alice says firmly, hooking on a pair of earrings that could probably double as chandeliers they’re so enormous. “And you look beautiful Bella! Don’t you want Edward to open his eyes and look at you?” She snaps her mouth shut and gives me a sideways look as Bella’s face flames red. “Rosalie won’t let on,” she says comfortingly.

“My lips are sealed,” I say. “Have fun at the dance. Take care of Jasper.” I meet Alice’s eyes in the mirror and she gives me a wink so fast I almost miss it.

“Consider it done!” she trills, and then I leave the two of them to finish up their final preparations.

I’m happy enough not to be going to the dance, but when Alice, Bella, Jasper and Edward all leave the house, taking with them their noise and cheerfulness, I can’t help the pang of emptiness I feel. When was the last time I ever missed a school dance? In fact, apart from the one occasion in eighth grade when I had the stomach flu and stayed home from the Spring Fling dance because I couldn’t stop puking, I don’t think I’ve ever been at home when there’s been a dance on.

Feeling restless I wander downstairs. Emmett’s on the sofa, surrounded by his notebooks and with a laptop open on the seat beside him, looking a little woebegone as Carlisle and Esme stand in front of him talking seriously. They break off when they see me, waving me forward when I hesitate. I don’t want to get in the middle of something.

“Esme and I are going out for dinner,” Carlisle says with a grin. “You and Emmett can look after yourselves, I’m sure.”

“Behave,” Esme says sternly, narrowing her eyes at Emmett. “I want that done tonight Emmett, I’m serious. I’ll help you look over it tomorrow, but there needs to be something for me to work with.”

“O- _kay_.” Emmett says in sulky exasperation. “I get it! Just go and have fun and leave me to it!”

Carlisle and Esme laugh and vanish in the direction of the garage, and I drift closer and look down at Emmett’s books. “What are you doing?” I ask, squinting at his notebook. His handwriting is horrendous and I can barely make out a word he’s scrawled down.

Emmett curses. “English. I was supposed to have these questions about the book done on Friday and I didn’t. So Esme wants me to do them tonight so tomorrow she can go over them and tell me how wrong I am and then I’ll redo them.” He doesn’t look at me when he talks, and I can see that his ears have gone a dull red, a sure sign he’s embarrassed.

“What’s the book?” Without waiting for an answer I perch on the sofa and dig out the book I can see half buried under his notebook and the loose sheets of paper. “Oh, Lord of the Flies. We did this in tenth grade.” I pick up the handout that Emmett’s been given and scan the questions. “This doesn’t look too bad.”

“Oh, go away,” Emmett grumbles, and it’s crankier than I’ve ever heard him. “Bully for you that it’s so easy. Meanwhile I don’t even know what’s fucking happening!”

It bothers me seeing him so unhappy. I miss his dimples… “Let me help you.”

He shakes his head. “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll write some shit and Esme will wonder how much more of a dumbass I can be and fix it up tomorrow.”

“I’m not worrying about it,” I say. “But I really would like to help you.” I look at him. “Please…you’re always doing things for me.” For a moment he looks undecided, and then I giggle and say teasingly, “I’ll show you some cheering!”

Emmett throws back his head and laughs. “Let me get this straight- you are going to do my homework with me and then show me your cheering ability?”

I shrug. “Why not? You didn’t really look all that convinced that you think I can smile! And I _do_ want to help you,” I add, flipping the pages of the book between my thumb and forefinger. “You’ve done so many things for me since I came here.”

“Okay,” Emmett sighs and gives in. “But I’m telling you, I’m really thick and I don’t know what this book is going on about. I know there are some kids on an island and they’re picking on the little fat kid. And there’s a shell. And something in the jungle.” He slumps further down on the sofa. “That’s all I’ve got.”

“Well, you’ve got the basics down,” I say lightly. “Really, you’ve picked out some of the most important ways the author symbolises his main themes, so it’s a pretty good start.”

Emmett is more intelligent than he gives himself credit for, and with some guided questioning he comes to a reasonable understanding of the text. He struggles a little when he has to translate his thoughts on to paper and I can see his frustration increasing, but he stubbornly ploughs on to get it finished.

I find myself watching Emmett as he works, noting the way he bites his knuckles when he’s agitated and the way his tongue catches between his teeth as he concentrates. I love the way he becomes so absorbed in what he’s doing, even this homework that he didn’t want to do. I can’t help but notice how relaxed I am too, sitting cross legged on the sofa facing him while I help and tease in equal measures, still wearing my sheep pyjama pants and grey thermal that are comfortable but definitely not flattering.

“Okay, done,” Emmett announces, slamming his laptop shut before I can make him go back and check all his spelling and grammar. “I’ll spellcheck it tomorrow.” He looks over at me a little awkwardly and says gruffly. “Thanks for your help…it was good.”

“I did tutoring for my community service project last year,” I tell him. “Everyone had to do one so I went to an after-school program for disadvantaged kids.” I remember how much I’d hated it at the start, resenting the time away from my own activities and interests, until I’d got to know some of the kids by helping them with their homework and teaching the little kids some fun cheer moves.

“Well, you’re good at explaining this shit,” Emmett says cheerfully, piling his things haphazardly on the coffee table. “I’m sure Esme will be pleased, she has to be getting sick of doing high school English again with the family dumbass.”

“Don’t say that,” I say, pushing him gently on the shoulder. “You’re better than you think, you know.” I climb off the sofa and stretch. “I’m going to get some ice cream. Do you want some?”

“I do, but I want something else first,” Emmett grins at me wickedly. “I believe you promised to show me the perky cheerleader version of your charming self?”

I laugh in embarrassment. “You’re going to hold me to that?”

“Absolutely I am,” Emmett says. “So come on, Rosalie, get out your pom poms and show me your stuff.”

“Oh whatever,” I say recklessly. “Come on downstairs.” It might be stupid, but after watching Alice and her squad today my body is twitching with the desire to _do_ something.

We’re both laughing as we go downstairs. Emmett flings himself down on the weight bench and I look for Alice’s pom poms, figuring I may as well do something fun.

“Aww, no cheerleader outfit?” Emmett says in mock disappointment, and I snort and throw a pom pom at his face.

“Don’t push your luck,” I say, tightening up the drawstring on my pyjamas and briefly wishing I was wearing a better bra. “This is not something I thought I’d ever be doing as it is.”

“I promise I’ll behave,” Emmett says solemnly, picking up the pom pom and tossing it back to me. He folds his hands in his lap and grins up at me innocently.

I shake my head at him and laugh, flipping back my hair and bouncing up on my toes. “Okay…I’m going to show you that I can be as perky and cheer inspiring as the next girl,” I say, and then plaster on a manic grin and launch into the routine we used to use for tryouts. It’s fun and showy and I finish with a tumbling run landing in a split because that always looks good, and I don’t stop smiling and flicking my hair in my best cheerleader way. And when I’m done, looking up at Emmett who stamps his feet and hollers at me in approval, I start laughing all over again.

“I’m sorry I doubted you!” he says.

I bounce to my feet and throw the pom poms at him. “I told you so!”

Emmett grins. “How long have you been doing that stuff?”

“I started ballet when I was three,” I say, rising up into an arabesque. “I went to gymnastics from when I was around eight, and I went to a cheer camp when I was twelve which started that.” I shrug. “I loved cheering. That was pretty much my focus after that.”

“How come you didn’t try out for the squad here?” Emmett asks curiously.

I throw Alice’s pompoms back where I found them, and start heading up the stairs. “Trying out for the squad here…I didn’t want to. I mean, I don’t think your dad would have let me, with my skull and all, but I wouldn’t have anyway. It’s all different now.” I shake my head and turn to Emmett. Standing a few steps above him I can look him straight in the eye. “It’s not something I can really talk about though.” _Please don’t ask me questions._

Emmett nods thoughtfully. “Okay. You were pretty amazing though…worth going through that damned Lord of the Flies for!” He winks at me, and then gestures up the stairs. “Let’s go and have that ice cream now. There’s a Ghostbusters sequel that we’ve got to get through tonight!”

So that’s what we do. Stretch out on opposite ends of the sofa and eat ice cream and laugh while we watch a movie, and I feel more comfortable and relaxed than I have since I’ve been here. For all those crazy undercurrents of feelings…I think Emmett is my friend.


	21. Broken and Damaged

The dreams are always the same. Darkness and cold. Sometimes I feel the pain, blooming through my body and exploding in my head, and sometimes there is no pain but that of anticipation because I know it’s coming. Either way is horrible. Always, always there is laughter, jeering and mocking and ripe with menace.

“Rosalie…Rosalie, wake up baby, it’s okay…”

For a minute I don’t know where I am and I would scream if the iron bands of terror wrapped around my ribs would let me take in enough air. I scramble on to my hands and knees, hating the choking noises of fear that I can hear coming from me, hating myself for this whimpering, cowering reaction to an imaginary threat.

I’m on the sofa. I must have fallen asleep watching the movie and now it’s finished, because the menu screen is on and it’s that that’s illuminating the living room and the anxious face of Emmett, who slides off the sofa and crouches at my side.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, his voice low and soothing. “You’re awake now, you fell asleep watching the movie. It’s just a bad dream baby, that’s all.”

I try to calm down, try to force air into my constricted lungs so that I can breathe, listening to the harsh rasping gasps. Emmett doesn’t touch me, but he’s very close and I can see that way his hands keep making fists and then releasing them as he forces himself to keep his distance.

“Do you want me to get someone?” he asks. “Dad? Or Jasper?”

I shake my head frantically but don’t speak. Even if I had the air for words, I’m scared to start making a sound in case I start screaming.

“Slow down,” Emmett says softly, his voice like a caress in the dimness. “It’s going to be okay Rosalie, you’re fine. Just breathe, that’s right baby…just breathe.”

I wonder if he knows that he keeps calling me baby. I wonder if he knows how much I like it.

Finally the terror recedes and I start breathing a little easier. Closing my eyes in defeat I slide down onto the sofa, curled up in a ball as the tears leak from underneath my closed lashes. “I’m sorry…” I breathe. “I hate this.” It’s only in the aftermath of the nightmares that I ever cry like this.

Emmett doesn’t reply but a moment later I feel the sofa cushion dip a little as he sits at my head, and then I feel his fingers, impossibly gentle, stroking across my hair. “It doesn’t matter.”

The terror gone and the adrenaline fading, I’m overcome with a powerful wave of lassitude. The idea of climbing the stairs and getting into bed seems completely unachievable. In fact, the idea of doing anything but staying curled up right here on the sofa with Emmett’s hands rhythmically stroking my hair is appalling. I wipe my face on my sleeve, but the tears keep on coming.

“Don’t go anywhere.” Emmett moves off the sofa and pulls open one of the storage ottomans, digging out one of the crocheted blankets that Esme stores in there. He drapes it over me, the heavy cotton fabric settling over me like a hug, and then sits back down at my head, giving me a handful of tissues. He flips over to the tv and for a little while the only sound is the low murmur of the television, broken by my occasional hiccupping sob or sniff. Emmett doesn’t stop stroking my hair, and in my sleepiness I realise I don’t want him to stop.

  “You know what this reminds me of?” he says softly. I can hear the lilt of amusement in his voice. “It reminds me of when I first came to the Cullens. Every night Carlisle and Esme would put me to bed in Edward’s room, then as soon as they’d gone I’d get up and go into Alice’s room and talk to her until she fell asleep and then I’d go downstairs. Alice and I had always slept with a tv on in our room and I couldn’t sleep in the quiet. So I’d go into the living room and lie down on the sofa, and then Carlisle would pretend not to notice me squirming my way up until I was close enough to him that he could rub my head. Just like this. The tv would be on, so low I could hardly hear it, and he’d rub my head until I fell asleep. Sometimes he’d fall asleep too, and Esme would find the two of us in the morning both still on the sofa, with me curled up in Carlisle’s lap.”  

I give a laugh, shaky and weak, but at least there are no tears anymore. “I’m not getting in your lap, Emmett.”

I can feel him shaking with his own laughter. “Aww, Rosalie, you’re killing me.”

I sit up and wipe my face again. “Did you have nightmares?”

“No. Alice did sometimes. I just couldn’t sleep when it was so quiet.” Emmett yawns. “After a little while Carlisle and Esme bought bunk beds so Alice could share the room with me and Edward, and they let me sleep up top with a radio on and I was okay after that.”

“I wish it were that easy.” I don’t realise I’ve said it aloud until I see the look on Emmett’s face. “Look, forget about it. I’m fine,” I say quickly.

“You’re not fine,” Emmett says soberly. “But you’re okay Rosalie, and that’s good enough for now.”

Slowly I lie back down on the sofa, pulling the blanket up to my shoulders and closing my eyes against the light from the television. Maybe he’s right. And the fact that he accepts me as I am, flawed and broken and struggling and all…at least someone does.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

“So how are you? What’s been happening in the last week?” Kari looks at me expectantly.

“Nothing much.” I’ve got my hair out today, and I wrap a small section around my finger and curl it. I wonder how much Kari and Carlisle talk about me, when they see each other at the hospital. I know she’s not supposed to talk about anything I tell her in here, but there are no rules about what Carlisle can tell her. “I got suspended from school,” I say, a little unwillingly.

“Well that sounds a bit out of the ordinary. What happened?” Kari asks, her pen already busy. I wish I knew what she was writing.

“I hit someone,” I tell her. “It was a guy from my class, I punched him and I broke his nose so they suspended me for three days.” I look over at her notebook. “What do you keep writing?” I ask abruptly.

Kari looks up and says lightly. “Nothing sinister, I promise. I like to keep track of our sessions as they’re going along- I make notes on what we’re talking about, what you say, any connections that I see or things that I want to come back to and look at more closely or explore in more depth. This way before I see you next time I can take a look to refresh my memory and give me some idea about what we should be doing in the next session. I also like to make a note of your body language and all the things you’re telling me without words. Like right now…I think you’re probably asking me questions because you’d like to avoid talking about what happened at school.” She gives me an easy smile.

I scowl in return. “That’s not why I asked. I just wanted to know.”

“Fair enough. So you won’t mind telling me a bit more about this person you hit, and why you did it?”

I comb my fingers through the curled section of hair, straightening it out. It occurs to me that Kari no doubt sees my constant playing with my hair as another way of avoiding dealing with her which, I have to admit, is probably true. Unfortunately it’s also really, _really_ bad for my hair- I’m going to end up with so many split ends if I have to keep going to therapy and don’t learn to stop fiddling with it. I fold my hands in my lap and look out the window instead.

“His name is Neil,” I say. “And I hit him because he’s an asshole and I was angry.”

There’s a long silence before Kari says mildly, “You can do better than that, Rosalie. Why were you angry with him?”

I sigh. “He wanted me to go to the Homecoming dance with him. He acted like it was just a given that I’d go with him and that I’d be thrilled to go out with him, even though I’ve never done anything that would make him think that.” I can feel my anger rise. “Ever since I moved here he’s been hanging around, acting like there’s something between us that there’s not. And then he was carrying on as though he’s entitled to something from me!”

“I can see why that would make you angry,” Kari says.

“He got angry,” I say quietly. “He was angry that I’d said no to him. He started calling me names and saying things to get me mad or hurt, and I just…” My voice trails away.

“Did you feel threatened?” Kari suggests.

“Maybe.” I don’t even realise that my hands are back in my hair again until I feel the pull on my scalp.

“What kind of things was he saying?” Kari asks.

“He was calling me names- said everyone calls me the ice queen and says what a bitch and a tease I am. Nothing I haven’t heard before. Then he told me that everyone’s saying I’m…I’m sleeping with Emmett and Edward or something like that. That was just…” I wind my hair around my fingers and struggle to explain. “I was so angry about that, but it wasn’t just that…I was…I don’t know.” How to explain that sense of revulsion, the sudden spike of memory that turned anger into fear?

 “I didn’t think he was going to do anything to me there- we were sitting in the school gym for god’s sake!,” I say at last, “And honestly, I don’t think Neil is really like that- he’s obnoxious but I’m pretty sure it’s all just bluster. But it reminded me of…of Royce. _He_ would get angry when I did something he didn’t like, and he accused me of doing things with other boys and I don’t…I’m never doing that again. I’m not getting involved in that kind of thing again. I can’t.”

“Royce is…?”

How do I answer that? “He was my boyfriend,” I say at last.

“Can you tell me about him?”

“No.” I’m finding it hard to breathe.

“When Neil reminded you of Royce, you hit him. That indicates some pretty strong feelings, Rosalie.”

“No.” I can feel the familiar, hated bands of anxiety tightening around my chest and constricting my breathing. “I don’t want to talk about him.” Kari says nothing and I struggle to keep it together. I don’t want to talk about Royce. If I open up about that subject and fall down that rabbit hole there’s no knowing where it will end. “Please…you said I didn’t have to talk about things I don’t want to.” I hate the note of terrified begging that has crept into my voice.

“Okay Rosalie, we can leave that for now.” Kari scribbles in her notebook, and I comb my fingers through my hair, focussing on the feel of the silky strands running over my skin to stop the memories that are threatening to overwhelm me. “Take some deep breaths and try to relax. We won’t worry about Royce today. What happened after you hit Neil?”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Emmett pulled me away,” I say tiredly. “Neil was bleeding – a lot – and the coach came over and sent us to the principal. Carlisle came down and sent Neil to the hospital to get his nose looked at, and he called Esme to come and pick me up.”

“What did Carlisle and Esme have to say? Your dad?”

“Carlisle was worried that I’d flipped out. Mentally I mean. Esme was just all upset that I’d hurt myself and brought me ice packs and fussed over my hand.” I clench my fist and look down at the bruises still shadowing my knuckles.

“What about your father?”

“He was angry,” I say stiffly. “I rang and told him and he yelled a lot. Said if I got in trouble here I’d have to go back to Rochester. He doesn’t understand anything.”

“Would you say you don’t get along with your father very well?”

I laugh mirthlessly. “You could say that.” I look out the window. “He was okay when my mom was alive. He worked a lot, but she made him spend time at home too. After she died he worked all the time and Jas and I barely saw him. Now…” I hesitate. What I’m about to say is something that is like a splinter under my skin, causing pain and festering, but hidden and I’m not sure I want to bring it out to the light here with Kari. “I can’t stand to be near him,” I say quietly. “When he looks at me now, I see it in his eyes…he doesn’t see _me_ anymore. He sees what they did to me. He sees the victim, the broken and damaged…and I hate it. How can I pretend to be something else if the people around me won’t look past it?”   

 


	22. Wrestling Match

“Rosalie please come with me,” Alice, lying across my bed, props her chin on her hands and gazes at me imploringly.

I’m at my desk doing homework. “I’m kind of busy.”

“You can’t make me go by myself! It’s wrestling- it’s excruciatingly embarrassing to be there!” Alice gives me a tragic look.

“You’re really not selling it Alice,” I murmur, checking the last answer in my math and closing the book.

Alice is pouting. “Please, Rosalie? Mom and Dad are making me go so I can ‘support’ Emmett or something…please come with me. It’ll be fun if we’re there together! It’s just a practice thing against the kids from the reservation school and some other small high school, so we can check out all the good looking boys.” Alice bats her eyelashes at me. “Come on, it’s Friday night…you’ve got all weekend to do your homework.”

“Okay,” I sigh, giving in. Alice is surprisingly hard to resist. “I’ll come with you.”

“Oh, thank you!” she says fervently. “Honestly, it won’t be that bad- some of the Quileutes are _so_ gorgeous – and I don’t think they have someone for all the weight classes so it won’t go too long. It will be so much better to be there together!” She bounces to her feet and heads towards the bathroom, but at the last minute she stops and gives me a devilish grin that makes her look surprisingly like her brother. “And of course,” she adds casually, “You’ll get to watch Emmett in his singlet.”

 Laughing gleefully she disappears into the bathroom, leaving me shaking my head. But I’m glad she’s not there to see the smirk I can’t suppress. I have more than a suspicion that Emmett Cullen in his wrestling gear is going to be worth looking at.

I half wish I’d stayed home when I enter the gym with Alice, Carlisle, Esme and Edward though. It smells overwhelmingly masculine, and everywhere I look there are boys in various states of undress. I can feel the anxiety rising a little, and I’m glad when Alice leads our way up into the stands and I can sit down and settle myself. She’s talkative and giggly, and I find myself responding, the two of us more like friends than we have been before.

“Hey, you’re here!”

Emmett comes bounding up the steps, and I know nothing on earth is going to hide the blush that’s flooding my face now. God, where am I supposed to _look?_ It doesn’t help when he jumps onto the seat in front of us and starts talking to Carlisle that his groin is right at eye level. I duck my head, letting my hair fall between me and Emmett, and catch Alice’s eye as she dissolves into hysterical giggling.

“For goodness sake, how old are you two? Twelve?” Edward says contemptuously from where he’s sitting behind us, doing something on his phone.

Alice is laughing helplessly, completely out of control, and it’s infectious. I snort and hide my face, trying to get a grip before I completely embarrass myself. Biting my lip I look up, only to see Emmett standing before me and looking at Alice and I with amused tolerance.

“Enjoying yourselves?” he enquires sweetly. “You might want to calm down Rosalie…we haven’t even started all that rolling around and groping that you were so keen on.”

“Something to look forward to then,” I say with a choking laugh.

I hear someone calling Emmett’s name and he looks out in to the gym and raises a hand briefly, before he turns back to Alice and I and says, “I’ll try not to disappoint you.” He shoves his mouthguard in and gives us a gruesome looking grin around it. “See you later.”

The back view of Emmett in Spandex…I look at Alice and raise my eyebrows in exaggerated awe, and she elbows me in the ribs and covers her face. “He’s my brother!”

“He’s not mine though,” I murmur, and then the two of us giggle again as Esme shakes her head at us indulgently.

I don’t enjoy the actual wrestling very much. It’s quite controlled and there are a lot of rules, which Alice explains to me amidst her giggles, but some of the boys approach it like they’re tributes in the Hunger Games and the noise of flesh against flesh makes me cringe. I cope until someone gets a bloody nose, and although I don’t react outwardly I guess they know me now, because Esme passes me over some money and asks if I’ll go and buy some drinks. Despite the anger I feel at myself for this weakness I’m grateful to her, and I jump rapidly down from the bleachers and head over to the table where they’re selling sodas and bottled juices.

“Hey, Rosalie.”

I turn into the queue and find myself looking into the dark eyes of Leah Clearwater, who gives me a slightly sardonic smile.

“Oh, hi!” I say, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Leah gestures vaguely over towards where the Quileute team gathers when they’re not competing. “Seth joined the team this year.”

“Enjoying the eye candy then?” I ask, handing over my money and taking five bottles of juice.

Leah snorts. “These children? No. It might have been a while for me, but I’m not getting that desperate yet.” Her eyes linger on the Forks team for a moment and then she grins at me as she concedes, “There are one or two that aren’t completely hideous though, I will grant that.”

I follow her gaze, and of course she’s looking at Emmett. He’s standing with his back to us but he stands out in the crowd, taller and broader than the other boys, his curly dark hair sticking up through the headgear, and his thighs and that ass… I force my eyes away and see Leah looking at me, amused.

“You’ve got your eye on him then?”

I toss my hair back, hoping I’m not going to start blushing. “That’s Emmett Cullen,” I say evasively.

“Oh, Alice’s brother?” Leah raises her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t have guessed that. Clearly he got all the height going in that family.”

My lips twitch. I have found it slightly amusing that Emmett’s over six feet tall and Alice is lucky if she reaches five feet. “I have to take these juices back to the family,” I say, figuring that the blood is probably mopped up by now. “Do you…are you here by yourself? You could come and sit with me for a while. If you want to.”

“I will,” Leah says, surprising me. “Just let me grab a coffee.” She pays for her coffee and then comes and stands beside me, saying a little awkwardly, “Thanks. I’m really not into this kind of thing. I didn’t know that Seth was either, honestly. But Dad used to wrestle when he was in school and he’s helped out with the high school wrestling program for years, so I guess Seth thought this was a way to feel close to him.”

“That happens sometimes, when a parent dies,” I say slowly. I’m not sure if I really want to share any of the raw, tender places in my life with Leah, but she’s looking at me with a kind of dark eyed intensity that invites honesty. “My mom wanted me to be a model,” I go on hesitantly. “I suppose I _was_ a model, when I was a child…until she got sick she used to take me to castings and jobs and keep up my portfolio. It stopped when she was too sick, but after she died I entered one of those modelling contests, not because I wanted to be a model anymore, but because I thought it would have made her happy.”

Leah nods thoughtfully. “That sounds like what Seth’s doing. So…did you win?”

“Win what?”

“The modelling contest,” Leah says impatiently. “You did, didn’t you?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I did. I won a photo shoot and an interview with an agency- I did the photos but I didn’t go to the interview because by then I’d realised it didn’t matter what my mom would have thought about it, I was the one who was going to have to do it and I didn’t want to.”

“Fair enough.” Leah looks around the gym. “So why are _you_ here anyway? I came because Seth really wanted someone from the family to come tonight, but Mom was offered an extra shift at the hospital and we really need the money. So I said I’d come, but…” She makes a face.

I make a sympathetic face back. “Yeah… _wrestling._ ” Both of us laugh, and I lead the way back towards the Cullens. “I came to keep Alice company,” I tell Leah. “Carlisle and Esme are really big on family things, apparently, so she had to come and she persuaded me I really needed to come too.”

Leah raises her eyebrows sceptically. “Oh yeah? And the fact that you can’t seem to keep your eyes away from that Cullen gorilla out there in his skivvies doesn’t have anything to do with it, does it?”

We’re nearly back at the Cullens so I ignore that, hoping no one heard, and handed out the drinks, giving Esme back the change. “This is Edward, Esme and Carlisle, and you know Alice,” I say casually, not sure who knows who. “This is Leah Clearwater, everyone.”

“Leah, hi,” Carlisle says. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s fine. Working at the hospital tonight.”

“Leah honey, I was so sorry to hear about your dad,” Esme says sincerely. “We sent some flowers. I hope things are going okay now.”

“Yes, we got them thank you,” Leah says awkwardly. “We’re a bit behind on the thank you notes I guess…”

“Oh goodness, don’t worry about that!” Esme exclaims. “Just worry about your family, and taking care of yourself. Now, is your brother in this tonight?”

Leah points out Seth, who looks young and excited as he warms up on the edge of the group. He’s scanning the stands looking for her, looking more anxious as his match approaches, and when he finally sees her sitting beside me he gives her a big enthusiastic wave.

“God, I hope he doesn’t get crushed,” Leah mutters, sitting back down. “He’s had like, two training sessions. And he’s right at the bottom of the weight class so his opponent could be huge.”

I think it’s cute how protective she is of her little brother. I always thought it might be nice to have a protective older sibling- I had Jasper but I started going through puberty at ten and everyone thought I was older than him until he finally grew taller than me when we were both fifteen.

Leah stays and talks for a while. She’s funny, with a sharp, biting wit that makes me laugh, and has a kind of blunt honesty that I like. I’m so tired of people who gossip and bitch and backstab and pretend to be something they’re not…it’s so much easier to be around someone who isn’t putting on a mask.

Seth acquits himself well and wins his match. I guess all the work in the garage with Jake has given him some muscle. Leah leaves to find him after that, but not before Alice invites her to her Halloween party.

“We’re having a Halloween party?” I say, disconcerted. “At our house?”

“Yes!” Alice says brightly. “It’s going to be brilliant! I’m inviting Jacob and your brother, Leah, and the other guys that have been working on Rosalie’s car…promise you’ll come too. And dress up!”

Leah looks a little pained at the command to dress up in costume, but she doesn’t outright refuse Alice’s invitation. Instead she says she’ll see what’s going on and she’ll let Alice know, but that she’s sure Seth will love the idea.

Emmett’s match is one of the last ones and I start to feel sick as it approaches. Despite his size and obvious strength he’s never been anything but gentle at home, and the thought of watching him involved in violence and glorying in it makes my stomach turn. But when the time comes it isn’t anything like I feared. Emmett’s serious and focussed, but he doesn’t snarl like an animal like his opponent does, and he pins him with such ease that it looks almost mild.

I also, I have to admit, find myself so distracted by the way his muscles look when he’s in action that I probably wouldn’t notice if he ripped off his opponent’s head, as long as he keeps flexing. I am very careful _not_ to look at Alice.

Emmett wins, and as he bounces up to his feet he spits his mouthguard out into one hand while shaking his opponents hand with the other. He says something and both of them smile and nod at each other, and I find myself relaxing. It’s still the Emmett I know, still the same boy who bought me peanut butter ice cream and soothed away my nightmares. And _damn_ but he’s good to look at!

“Well, I guess you’re not _too_ sorry I convinced you to come,” Alice murmurs smugly, and I just laugh. Watching Emmett and talking with Leah…it’s been an interesting evening and no, I’m not sorry I came.

 


	23. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – Happy Halloween everyone! Thank you to everyone reading and messaging/ reviewing…I’m glad to know that people who like my vampire girl are enjoying here being a bit more human and fragile too. I had this chapter planned for ages (I always thought the idea of the Cullens celebrating Halloween was kind of amusing) and it’s conveniently ready ON Halloween…enjoy their party!

I’m working out down in the basement when I first notice the scent. Pumpkins. I ignore it, doing my cool down routine at the barre and watching myself in the mirror, noting with satisfaction that the hard work is paying off and I’m starting to look toned again. I pull up my t shirt for a minute to see how my abs are looking.

“Looking good.”

Mortified I yank my t-shirt back down and whirl around to see Emmett smiling at me angelically. “Go away!”

“Awww, come on, I’m just teasing,” Emmett says contritely. “I’m sorry.”

“What do you want?” I ask, finding my water bottle and taking a long drink. They usually leave me alone when I’m down here, and Emmett’s sudden appearance has me ratted.

“Carlisle’s come home with the pumpkins so we’re doing jack-o-lanterns,” Emmett explains. “Alice wants lots of them for her party. Come join in.”

At the top of the stairs I pause for a moment, taking in the scene in the kitchen. Jasper, Alice, Edward, Esme and Carlisle are all gathered around the newspaper covered table, talking and laughing as they work on their pumpkins, looking like an illustration for the perfect family Halloween activity. Carlisle drops another slimy handful of pumpkin seeds and guts onto the newspaper and waves me forward.

“Come on Rosalie, pick yourself out a pumpkin!”

Alice has already gutted her pumpkin and is sketching on it lightly with a pencil. “They’re going to be such good party decorations!” She smiles at me and picks up a knife to start her carving.

Carving the pumpkins is fun, and I love the results. I’ve never been creative, so I stick with the traditional and carve a classic jack-o-lantern face with triangular eyes and nose and a square toothed smile. Carlisle and Jasper’s efforts are much the same. On the other hand, Alice and Esme and Edward are amazingly artistic, and carve theirs into a beautiful Halloween kitty and haunted house and skull. Emmett breaks me up in laughter with his pumpkin face that has crazy, crooked eyes, a mouthful of jagged spiky teeth and quizzically arched eyebrows.

The jack-o-lanterns are only the beginning of Alice’s elaborate plans for party decorations. By the time she’s finished bullying all the rest of us into making her visions reality, the Cullen house is a kind of Halloween wonderland.

My friends at school are pretty much limited to my own brother and the three Cullens I live with so I have nothing to do with the invitations, but Alice gives new meaning to the word popularity and I think half the school plans on turning up for the party. Even Neil, whose nose is almost back to normal but who hasn’t spoken a word to me since, forgets that he hates me and tells me that he’ll see me at my place on the weekend when we leave school Friday afternoon.

By the time I’m starting to dress for the party, I’m nearly as excited as Alice. I always loved parties- dressing up, flirting, drinking and dancing and being in the centre of a crowd, knowing I look good and that people are noticing – and it’s been such a long time since I’ve been to one.

“Let me do your hair!” Alice begs, flitting into the bathroom as I’m peering into the mirror applying makeup.

Alice is dressed up like a gypsy fortune teller in a long flowing skirt and embroidered peasant blouse, with bunches of bangles clinking on her arms and giant hoop earrings swinging below the red scarf that’s tied around her hair. Her eyes, outlined in black, look enormous and they’re gleaming with excitement.

“You look _gorgeous_ ,” Alice says fervently. “And this costume is so perfect,” she adds with a giggle.

I give her a wicked smile. When Neil told me they all call me the ice queen he meant to hurt me, but the truth is I liked the idea. Icy, untouchable, strong…I want that to be me, and for tonight it’s going to be. I’m wearing a silver and white ballet costume edged with white fur, white tights and my pointe shoes…the costume from the snow queen. Alice pins my hair up into an artful arrangement of curls adorned with silver snowflakes, and then I carefully place the delicate silver and rhinestone tiara. Perfect.

I can’t help dancing as I go down the hall to Jasper’s room. I know the ballet shoes are ridiculous for a party and I’m going to be crippled by the end of the evening, but I look beautiful and I can smell the party food heating in the oven and hear the music that Alice already started downstairs. I twirl into Jasper’s bedroom and come to rest on one foot, my other leg held high up by my head.

“Show-off,” Jasper says good-naturedly. “You look happy.”

I laugh and flitter over to him. “I am! And you look great…where did you get this?”

“Ebay,” Jasper says, tugging at the neck of the Civil-war era military uniform he’s got on. “It’s a bit tight…are you sure I look okay?”

“You look gloriously tall and handsome and military,” I say sincerely. “I’m sure Alice will admire you.”

Jasper looks at me sideways. “You think?”

I giggle. “Yes, I do…so nothing has happened between you two yet?”

“Not yet,” Jasper says, giving away his intentions. He seems distracted though, and a moment later he says hesitantly, “While we’re talking about this Rosalie, I’ve seen you looking at Emmett and…”

“No!” I put my hand over his mouth and shake my head. “We’re not talking about me, and we’re not talking about Emmett….really Jas, don’t.” I give him a pleading look, and he sighs and relents.

“Okay, I won’t. But…be careful Rosie.”

“Aren’t I always?” I say a thread of bitterness underlying the flippancy. “Come on soldier Hale, let’s go down and join the party.”

“ _Major_ Hale, thank you,” Jasper says with a grin, taking my arm and escorting me downstairs.

Alice is taking photographs in the living room, Edward wearing a very sharp suit and hat sitting at the piano and smouldering at her. “What are you meant to be?” I ask.

“1920’s jazz pianist,” Edward says, as though it should be obvious.

I laugh and pose for Alice, who snaps pictures of Jasper and I together and then separately. I offer to take a photo for her next, and then order to get in a picture with Jasper, noting with satisfaction the way she stands so close to him and Jasper lays a hand lightly on her back. I’m taking a photo of the three of them when someone snarls behind me, and the last photo is nothing but a blur as I shriek and just about jump out of my skin.

“Emmett!” Alice scolds, but Edward and Jasper are laughing and even I’m trying to hide a grin as I turn to glare at him.

“You jackass!” I say, but I’m looking at him in his black trousers and white dress shirt, the black cloak with red silk lining swirling from his shoulders, and there’s no heat in my tone. And when he smiles at me, all dimples and plastic fangs, he’s the most adorable vampire in the world and I think I could look at that smile forever. My belly flutters as his blue eyes scan me from the top of my rhinestone studded tiara to the tip of my white satin pointe shoes and then move slowly back up. He’s not smiling when he meets my eyes again, but it’s not hard to read the look on his face and I pivot away from him so that he won’t see the blush heating up my cheeks.

“Will you help me light the pumpkins?” Alice asks, nearly quivering with excitement. “I’ll do the ones downstairs if you’ll do the ones out on the porch and the front steps, Rose? And Edward, can you do the ones in here?”

I nod and take the lighter Alice holds out, hurrying out to the front porch where she’s arranged the carved pumpkins on the steps. I light them, loving the way they look with the firelight flickering in the evening dimness. I guess we’re too far out of town for trick-or-treaters, and I feel a momentary pang. Once I got too old to go out on Halloween myself I loved dressing up and handing out candy and seeing all the little kids in their costumes.

I don’t realise Emmett has followed me until I turn and start going back up the steps and see him in the doorway. He doesn’t move when I reach him. “Trick or treat,” I say lightly, and I’m rewarded with a fanged, dimpled smile.

“I don’t have any candy,” he tells me. “But there are other kinds of treats…would you accept those?” With the plastic fangs in he sounds like he has a lisp.

I shake my head.

Emmett sighs mournfully. “Oh well. It’ll have to be trick.”

“I’ll think of something,” I say with a laugh. “You’d better watch out.”

“Oh, I will…” For a moment Emmett looks uncertain, and then he takes a quick breath and says, “I just wanted to tell you…you look beautiful tonight.”

I can hardly breathe, but this time it’s in a _good_ way. He thinks I’m beautiful. I don’t say anything to him, but I smile and look at him and I wonder what it is that he’s doing to me, and how he can make me feel like this.

The two of us are just standing there, looking at each other, and I don’t know what’s going to happen but before anything else can there’s the noise of a car on the driveway and the party begins.

I have a wonderful time. Dressed up as the snow queen, feeling strong and graceful and beautiful, it’s easy to step outside of myself and forget about my problems. My demons seem very small and far away as I laugh and dance and drift through the crowds of people, pleasurably conscious of how pretty I am tonight. I don’t seek Emmett out but I’m aware, always, of where he is and the way his blue eyes follow me when I am near him.

“Hey, it’s ballerina Barbie tonight.”

I don’t even need to turn around. “Hey Leah.” I finish pouring myself a drink and then turn to her and smile. “Oh, you’re not in costume,” I tease, because she’s dressed up like a witch in a long black dress and tall, pointed hat.

“Oh, in with the classic jokes there Barbie doll…at least both of us are sticking to type.” Leah grins back, and I realise with a little start of surprise that the two of us really are becoming almost friends.

“I’m the snow queen,” I tell her, offering her a bowl of pretzels. “I’m glad you came.”

Leah looks around. “Seth really wanted to,” she says. “And it’s a pretty good party- you’re right about the house, it’s amazing.”

It is a great house for a party. There’s music and dancing in the basement rec room, and lots of space in the kitchen and living area for people to sit or mingle and talk. Esme and Carlisle are in their room, ready to intervene if there’s trouble but quite content to stay out the way if there’s not.

“Where is Seth?” I ask.

Leah rolls her eyes. “With the food, where else? You should go and say hi to him, he’s been working really hard with Jake on your car. I think he’s quite sweet on you actually.”

I giggle, because Seth Clearwater is so young and innocent that there’s nothing threatening in that, and I follow Leah into the living area where Seth and Jacob and his friends are scoffing down plates of sausage rolls and having a whale of a time.

“Rosalie!” Seth, wearing regular clothes but with a plastic knife apparently stuck through his head, jumps up so quickly he spills some of his drink out on his jeans, much to the amusement of his friends. He does his best to ignore them and smiles at me happily. “You look really pretty…thanks for inviting us!”

“You’re welcome.” I seek out Jacob, who’s sitting on the floor with his long legs stretched out in front of him, wearing a pair of mechanic’s overalls. “How’s my car going?” I notice with some surprise that Bella, wearing a Little Red Riding Hood cape and hood, is sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him. I wonder if she’s given up on Edward and is setting her sights on Jacob.

Jacob grins at me sheepishly. “It’s getting there Rosalie. The mechanics are fantastic on it now, and it’s over at Sam’s getting the paint job done so you’ll have it back soon. I would have had it done sooner but with school and…”

I wave his explanations away with a smile. “It doesn’t matter. Whenever it’s done will be fine.” I want my car desperately, but I knew when I gave it to Jacob he wasn’t a professional and would be working on it around school.

Leah is sitting in the armchair, and I perch on the arm. “I can’t wait to get my car,” I tell her.

“The boys all love it,” Leah says. “I’m surprised they’re not dragging this out for months just so they get to keep playing with it.” She sounds a bit edgy as she adds, “I didn’t know Sam was working on it too.”

“Yeah, he’s doing the paint job and told me he’d keep an eye on Jacob,” I say. “Why? Don’t you like him?”   

Leah grimaces. “You remember I mentioned the asshole ex-boyfriend?”

“Sam Uley?” I say in surprise. He’d seemed so genuine. But then, it’s not always easy to tell…I grimace and without meaning to my hand drifts up to my face. “What happened?”

Leah shakes her head. “That’s a story for another day, ballerina Barbie. I don’t want to bring down the party mood.” She looks to the other side of the room and rolls her eyes. “You know, he hasn’t stopped looking at you all night.”

I know she’s talking about Emmett and I can’t stop my complacent smile, which makes Leah snort. “Fair’s fair I guess,” she says teasingly. “You were eyeing off his goods at the wrestling, now he gets an eyeful of you in your skimpy outfit.”

 

“It’s for ballet!” I say indignantly, but my heart’s feeling light and I don’t really care. I’ve spent so much time hanging out on the sofa with Emmett while wearing fleece pyjamas and Jasper’s ratty old NYU sweatshirt, part of me loves that tonight he’s seeing what I can look like when I want to. _I want him to think that I’m beautiful._ Judging by the way his blue eyes are looking at me from across the room, I think maybe he does.


	24. About Time

The music draws me back, and once again I step carefully down into the basement where Alice grabs me and makes me dance with her. She’s flushed red with excitement and happiness over the success of her party.

“This is so much fun!” she shouts over the music.

“I know!” I yell back..

A moment later Emmett joins us, and when Alice jumps up to hug him he catches her easily in his arms. “Are you having fun?” she asks, laughing when Emmett nods. She wraps her arms around him and then, in the break of the music, I hear her teasing voice as she says to him, “My crystal ball foresees great things for you Emmett Cullen…don’t hold back.” She slithers down and dances away, blowing kisses at us both as she reaches the stairs and disappears upstairs.

“You call that dancing?” I tease Emmett.

He grins and shakes his head. “Nah…just getting close enough to you to do this.” And with a chuckle he snaps his fangs at me and dives for my neck.

I’m laughing until Emmett’s lips touch my neck, and then it’s like the whole world stops and there is nothing but the heat of his mouth against my skin and the pounding beat of my heart. _Oh Emmett…_

He feels me freeze and pulls away. His face, as he yanks out the fangs and bends closer to me, is stricken with concern. “Jesus Rosalie, I’m sorry, I was being an idiot…”

I don’t want him to apologise, I don’t want him to talk, _I don’t want him to stop touching me…_ Rising onto my pointes I place my hands flat against his chest, raise my face to his, and kiss him.

Emmett looks stunned. I’ve never seen him at a loss for words before, but as we stand with our faces only inches apart, both of us breathing hard, the seconds drag out and neither of us says a word. Finally Emmett swallows hard, and then the dimples deepen as he smiles at me. “Rosalie…”

“Emmett,” I say, and he laughs gently as he raises his hand and brushes his fingers across my lips.

“Did you…” Emmett’s voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat. “Did you mean that?”

All these weeks of circling each other, of watching him and learning about him and feeling what he makes me feel with his smiles and dimples and brief moments of touch… _oh yes, I meant it, Emmett._ I am so drawn to him I don’t think I could pull away even if I wanted to. “Yes,” I say huskily. “Yes, I wanted to…”

“Well,” he says with a sigh. “It’s about time.”

I don’t need to say anything else. Emmett’s arms go around me and his mouth comes down on mine so we’re kissing, and I can’t think about anything but how right this feels. His big, solid body, the curly hair under my hands and the slight scratchiness of his stubble against my skin, and above all the heat and pleasure of his lips on mine…I never want this moment to end.

“Rosalie…”

I love the way he says my name. Breathless I look up at him, and as I drop down from my toes I think I’d fall if I didn’t have his arms to hold me up. Emmett is looking down at me with such intensity he doesn’t seem aware of the party noise and chaos that’s happening around us. He touches my face and brushes the stray wisps of hair away from my eyes, and the gentleness of his big hand against my skin makes my body flare with pleasure.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he says dreamily.

“You can do it again if you like,” I offer, smiling as he chuckles.

“Well, maybe I will,” he whispers into my mouth, and then I’m kissing him all over again and it feels perfect. “You’re beautiful.”

The rest of the party passes me by in a blur. There’s more kissing, and more dancing, and I introduce Emmett to Leah and Jacob and the other Quileutes and spend some more time talking with them, sitting beside Emmett on the sofa and feeling his arm warm at my back and his hand gently squeezing my hip. People start leaving around 1 am, but I think there’s going to be a good few people here until morning. I can’t see Edward anywhere, but Alice and Jasper are still dancing in the rec room and I wonder if they’ve been kissing too. Hours in my ballet shoes have killed my feet and I’m tired of the noise and crowd, so just before two I step carefully around the people talking and kissing on the stairs and head upstairs. Emmett follows.

It’s dark and quiet upstairs. We locked all the bedrooms to keep people out, and I’m glad to step into my room and take a deep breath. The fairy lights are on, I’ve started leaving them on so that there’s light when I wake up after the nightmares, and behind me I hear Emmett’s sharp intake of breath as I sit on the bed, bending low to undo my ribbons and take off my shoes.

I can’t stop the deep sigh of relief as the toe shoes come off and I toss them aside. Emmett’s standing with his back against the door, still wearing his cape, staring at me as I look up at him as I efficiently untangle the snowflake hair pins and let my hair fall down my back. “What are you doing?” I ask softly.

“I don’t know,” he answers, kicking off his shoes and stepping towards me. He stops, standing in front of me, his hands hanging loosely by his sides. He smiles at me bashfully. “I know what I _want_ to do…”

“Something like this?” I rise to my feet, standing so close to him that I can feel his body touching mine all along my length, and tilt my head up to meet his face.

“Yeah,” Emmett says hoarsely a moment later, breaking off the kiss. “Something a lot like that…”

I make a noise and curve my arms up around his neck, holding on to his strong shoulders and soft hair, and nothing else seems important in the face of what there is between us. I pull him down onto the bed with me and then we’re kissing, rolling around while I’m aware of nothing but the big, masculine body underneath me, on top of me, beside me, and how amazing he feels in my arms. The kissing is like Emmett- playful and gentle and powerful all at the same time. It’s all open mouths and soft lips and wet tongues and teeth, and the throbbing pulse of desire between my legs. His hands are in my hair, holding my face to his, running down my back, brushing across my breasts and pulling my hips against him. I wrap my legs around him and hear him groan as his groin grinds against mine and, with only his dress trousers and my leotard between us I can feel how hard he is. I press myself against him, feeling the sparks of pleasure growing stronger and my body starting to burn.

Oh, this feels so _good_ , and it’s been so _long…_ My hands are all over him, exploring the feel of his back and shoulders and chest, tracing the lines of his abdominals. I can feel his heart beat under my hand as I fumble with the buttons of his shirt until I can open it up and have his bare chest to play with. Emmett throws off the vampire cape and the shirt and I bury my face in the curve of his neck and kiss him, sliding my tongue out between my lips to taste him. _Emmett, I want you so much._

“Oh God, oh Rosalie, you’re beautiful,” Emmett mumbles. He’s kissing my neck and pulling at my leotard, before he breaks away and looks at me helplessly. “Jesus, how do you get this thing _off?_ Or is it some kind of chastity garment, because I can’t touch any _skin…_ ”

I laugh breathlessly and wriggle my shoulders out of the neck, letting him pull it down over my arms, taking my bra straps with it. Then his hands are stroking my back and he’s kissing my bare shoulders, fumbling with the hooks on my bra until he finally removes it and frees my breasts for his hands and mouth to explore. I’m giving little whimpering moans of pleasure as his tongue rasps across my nipple, but then I look down at Emmett and reality slaps me in the face with all of its ugliness, and everything falls apart.

Emmett’s eyes are closed as he mouths at my breast and I don’t think he’s seen it, but it’s all I can see. The scar, raised and purple and ugly, that mars my white skin and marks me forever as brutalised is right next to his cheek, and I know that in a minute he’s going to open his eyes and look at it and know how broken I am, and I can’t stand it.

With a strangled sob I wrench away from him, wrapping my arms around myself and curling up into a ball, hiding my breasts. I can’t stop the tears as I feel the wave of shame and self-disgust, and I want to scream because what happened to me is going to ruin this too, this thing with Emmett that I don’t understand but that means so much.

“Rosalie, oh Rosa girl, fuck…I’m sorry, I didn’t…what is it? Beautiful girl, don’t cry, please don’t cry….” Emmett leans over me, his broad chest pressed against my back and his hands frantically rubbing at my arms as he kisses my shoulder and neck and murmurs in my ear. “What is it? What happened? Oh god Rosalie, I love you, I do…”

He feels so warm and solid and reassuring, but it doesn’t help. I feel so low and dirty, I’m too damaged, too broken, he won’t want me… He can’t love me, he can’t, he can’t…

“Can’t what?” I don’t realise that I’m speaking aloud, whispering the same words over and over again until Emmett touches my lips with his fingers and asks again, his voice high with anxiety. “Can’t what? Rosalie, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to…please Rosa girl, talk to me. I love you …” And then his voice breaks too.

I roll over towards him, butting him hard in the chest with my head, burrowing against him as though I could crawl inside him and hide. He wraps his arms around me and holds me cradled tight against him as I sob, his lips in my hair as he murmurs again and again that he loves me.

It feels like forever, but eventually the tears abate. Emmett waits, holding me in his gentle embrace, running his hand rhythmically through my hair and down my back, waiting for me to speak.

“I’m sorry,” I say finally, my voice hoarse with crying. I can’t look at him.

Emmett kisses me, tentatively, on the forehead. “I mean it Rosalie, I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you.” His voice sounds so sad and sincere, and I close my eyes.

 _I think I love you too._ I’m too scared to say it, but I feel it like a small glow inside me, and it gives me the courage to sit up and meet Emmett’s eyes.

“What happened?” he asks me uncertainly. “Please tell me what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything.” I’m still holding my arms tightly against my chest, my hands covering my breasts. I can feel the scar, raised and rough, under my fingers. “I was just scared that you’d see.” And not taking my eyes from his face, I let my hands fall so that he can see everything.

Emmett swallows hard when he takes in the scar. He reaches towards it but then stops, his fingers hovering an inch away from my skin as his eyes meet mine. “You didn’t want me to see that? Is that…”

I nod slowly.

Emmett’s fingers brush over the scar, as light as feather, and then his big hands wrap around mine and he holds them tight. “Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore.” I try and breathe steadily. “It just…looks…bad, now.”

“You’re beautiful,” Emmett says gently. “Whatever…you’re beautiful.” And like I’m made of delicate bone china Emmett cups my scarred breast in his hand and awkwardly lowers his head until he can kiss the ugly mark.

I hold his head tight against me for a minute before I whisper the words that I’ve never said aloud before. “I was raped.”

 


	25. Honesty

Emmett’s arms wrap around me and he draws me down gently until we’re stretched out on the bed with my head pillowed on his shoulder and his arm holding me tight against him. “Oh Rosa girl…” he murmurs, “My beautiful, beautiful girl…”

I breathe him in and kiss him in the little dip at the base of this throat, my heart aching because he is so very beautiful and very good, and I want him so much to be mine. For the first time since it happened, I find myself wanting to tell someone about that night. I want to tell _him._

“Can I tell you about it? It’s not…not _nice_ , but…” My voice fades. What happened to me is so far from ‘nice’ that I don’t even have words for it.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s not nice.” Emmett strokes my hair, working his fingers through the tangles with surprising gentleness. “It’s your story. I want to know all your stories…even this one.”

“I started dating Royce at the beginning of my junior year,” I say slowly. “He was a year older than me and one of those people who seem to have everything- he was good looking and popular, played football, got good grades, had a fancy car and all daddy’s money and influence behind him…you know the type. I made varsity cheerleading and he was quarterback and so we were often at the same parties and hanging out with the same people. We flirted a lot- he wanted me, but he was a player and I wasn’t interested in just being another conquest. I thought I was better than that.” I pause for a minute, remembering how it was back then with all the playful flirtation that I had thought was so innocent.

“He saw it as a challenge I guess, because he didn’t leave me alone. And I was flattered, and naïve and stupid… In the end I gave in and we went out and then became a couple.” I sigh. “I thought I had it all. I was pretty and popular, I was a cheerleader, my grades were good, and I was dating this guy that all the other girls would have killed to go out with, but he wanted me. We went out a lot, went to all the parties together, to junior and senior prom together…from the outside it all looked perfect.”

I close my eyes and bite my lip, startling slightly when Emmett lays a fingertip gently on my chin. “You don’t have to talk about any of it that you don’t want to,” he says quietly. “I’m listening, but you don’t have to do it all today.”

“No, I want to.” _I need to talk about it. I need you to know._ I gather my thoughts for a moment before I go on, my voice low. “It wasn’t as perfect as it looked. Royce could be…difficult. He had an awful temper and we fought a lot, when no one else was around. He was the first person I slept with, and sex became a big point of contention. He hurt me a couple of times.” I feel Emmett tense, and I laugh mirthlessly. “You must think I’m an idiot for letting it go on… _I_ think I’m an idiot for letting it go on! But everyone always said how good we were together, he could be so charismatic and whenever he did anything to me he was always so sorry and did what he could to make it up to me. By the time I realised how bad things really were, I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t so simple just to get away.”

“Early in the summer I tried to break up with him,” I go on carefully. “I thought it would work- he was going to be going away to college after vacation and I’d still be in Rochester for senior year. I knew we weren’t good together, and I thought breaking up was the best thing to do. Royce didn’t agree.”

I take a deep breath. “I visited a friend the night it happened. She was at school with me but had dropped out to have a baby, so we didn’t see that much of each other. I stayed late talking with her and playing with the baby, and then rather than wait for a cab I decided to talk home.”

“They caught up with me only a few streets away. Royce and a few of his friends. I wasn’t scared at first, he was supposed to be my _boyfriend_ , but then he pulled me into the park and hit me and…” I shudder. “Royce went first, and then the others. I tried to fight them off and I screamed and screamed for someone to help me…but it didn’t make any difference.” I can feel the tears, stinging my eyes and dripping, hot and salty, down my cheeks. “It hurt so much. The rapes, and then the beating…I thought I was going to die. I nearly _did._ I don’t remember being found in the park or being taken to the hospital, but when I got there I went straight into surgery so they could stop all the internal bleeding and try to…try to…fix what they’d done to me.”

“Damn it, baby, fuck them…” Emmett holds me closer and I hear the tears frogging in his throat. “I wish I had something to say…sweet Jesus, I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It was big news locally,” I tell him, talking faster now, wanting to get it all out. “They were arrested right away, I knew who they were of course and there was some physical evidence to back that up, although a lot of it was lost or compromised because of the immediate surgery. Royce’s dad was very well known and had a lot of influence, and he hired the most expensive scum sucking lawyers he could to get Royce off.”

“But surely…” Emmett’s voice trails off.

I smiled bitterly. “Surely they wouldn’t get off? No, but he was going to get the lightest sentence he could and ruin me in the meantime. They told the police the sex was consensual and that they didn’t know who beat me up. You know, there are laws to protect underage rape victims’ privacy, but it didn’t make any difference. Royce’s name was out there, and everyone who knew us knew it was me.

“They had pictures they took on their phones from that night that they said showed I was enjoying it and that the violence must have come later, and they sent those pictures to everyone in school. There was an anonymous blog that everyone was reading- the prom queen and the football hero and look at us now. I don’t even know who was behind it, but they had a lot of other photos…mostly just stuff like me in my bikini that was totally innocent, but with all the things that they were saying it looked like something else. They found some modelling photos I’d done when I was fifteen when I won this contest- it was stupid, you couldn’t see _anything_ , but I mean technically I wasn’t wearing any clothes.

“I was the victim, but everything they were saying about me and about what I had done with Royce...I hadn’t done anything wrong, but it was like it was all my fault anyway. It was just horrible, and I couldn’t deal with it at all. I told my dad that I wasn’t ever going back to school, and I guess that’s when he got together with Carlisle and Esme and thought I should come here.”

“So what happened to them?” Emmett’s voice is shaking.

“They plea-bargained,” I say flatly. “They got some jail time and I got to skip going through the hell of a trial. I don’t know if it was worth it. But nothing that the courts could have done to them would have even come close to making up for what they did to me. I might have won at trial, but it wouldn’t have made any difference really…I’d already lost in all the ways that mattered.” There’s a long silence.

“Thank you for telling me,” Emmett says hoarsely. “I didn’t know it was like that. I had no idea it was that bad…” His eyes look troubled and he catches my mouth in his and kisses me with soft and questing lips before he pulls away. “I love you,” he says simply. “I understand more now, about why you’re the way you are, and I love you Rosalie… I don’t ever want to do anything that hurts you, or that you don’t want to do.”

I believe him, and the fact that he doesn’t want to do anything that I don’t want to do makes me want to do _everything_ with him. I become aware that we’re both still naked from the waist up, and with a slow smile I move back towards Emmett and take his bottom lip in between mine. He kisses back, and soon it’s all roaming hands and deep, wet kisses and muted sighs and I don’t know when my body has ever felt this good.

I roll onto my back and pull Emmett with me, so that he’s looming over me as he lies in between my legs. He groans as I wrap my legs around him and rub against him, and thrusts against me until we’re both breathless.

“Oh damn, Rosa girl…”

I unzip his fly and slide my hands into his trousers and boxer shorts, feeling how big and hard his cock is as I wrap my hands around him. My fingers can feel the wetness on his swollen head, and his skin feels like silk as I grip him tighter. I can’t move my hands much in the confined space of his clothes, but Emmett pushes up into my hands and I squeeze and rub as he gasps.

“Oh, that’s good, that’s so good, that’s….oh Rosalie, I’m going to…”

“I want you to,” I whisper, and slip one hand lower to curve around his balls so that he comes, in several pulsing bursts, and the wet, stickiness smears between us.

Emmett’s heart is racing, thudding under my cheek as I rest my head on his chest. I wipe my hand carelessly across his trousers and he laughs and kisses my forehead. “Sorry about the mess.” He rubs the wetness on his belly. “You want to have a bath?”

“What, together?”

“Sure.” Emmett heaves himself off the bed and goes into the bathroom I share with Alice, and a moment later I hear the snap of the lock and the rush of water into the tub.

Emmett disappears into his room to throw his dirty clothes in the hamper there, and I knot my hair up on my head so that it won’t get in the way in the bath. I feel oddly self-conscious about undressing casually in front of him, so I toss a scoop of foaming bath crystals in to the water and then I’m in the tub before Emmett returns. He climbs in behind me, which immediately raises the water level enough that I reach over and turn off the faucet.

We don’t turn the light on, and in the dim half-light spilling in through my open door the hot water and steam and bubbles and Emmett’s hands rubbing slow circles on my back with a face washer is almost stupefying in its relaxation. I sigh and surrender to him when he draws me closer to sit between his legs and half float as I loll backwards against his chest.

He continues to stroke the face washer over me, down my arms and across my neck and breasts and stomach, down in between my legs. He drops the cloth then and his fingers take over, touching me, exploring the shape and feel of me with no pressure or demands, waiting until I open my legs to him and invite his hands further in.

I’ve never been touched like this. Not this slow, sweet caressing touch by someone who wants to discover me, who is watching and listening for every one of my reactions and is doing this only for me to feel the pleasure of it. Never by someone who whispers in my ear how beautiful and perfect and desirable I am and how much he loves me. Never by a man who puts his own pride aside and asks me if it’s good, who wants me to tell him what I like and what he can do to make it better for me. So I try and find words, and Emmett listens to them and takes in all the unspoken things too. All the whimpers and sighs and tiny noises of pleasure that grow until I drop my head back on his shoulder and close my eyes and come, my body shuddering with the bliss that he’s given to me and my fist clamped to my mouth to stop me from crying out.

“I love you Rosalie,” Emmett murmurs, his lips in the damp coils of my hair. I love his generous spirit, that he can offer me his love with such open trust even when I can’t say the words back to him.

My heart aches, and in the barest breath of a whisper I find myself telling him the last secret, the one that hurts most and makes me know that what happened to me has irrevocably changed every aspect of my life. “I can’t have babies anymore.”

Emmett’s arms tighten around me. “Because of what they did? But you can…I didn’t hurt…” his voice trails away.

I think I know what he’s asking, and with my eyes closed I answer him. “I can have sex. The way you touched me then was fine, the surgeons fixed everything there. But when it happened…I was pregnant. About sixteen weeks. That’s what really made me decide to break it off with Royce- I couldn’t raise a baby with someone like that. I guess he decided I wasn’t going to raise a baby without him either…he beat me badly enough that I miscarried the baby, and because of how violent it was and just my own shitty luck, I haemorrhaged and they took out my uterus. It was a one in a million thing, it hardly ever happens like that, but…it happened to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Emmett’s hands don’t stop their slow, gentle caress of my body. “I guess you wanted that then.”

“Yeah.” I laugh a little, without humour in it. “I didn’t go around saying it or anything. I certainly didn’t mean to get pregnant in high school. I was going to go to college and all that first but I always knew I wanted babies. Always. I wanted what I didn’t have- a regular family where the mom wasn’t sick and the dad didn’t work all the time. It doesn’t seem like that much to ask for, you know? But now I can’t have it.”

Emmett doesn’t say anything then. After all, what is there to say? But he holds me close and plants tiny kisses on my closed eyelids, and when I open them and look at him he tells me again that he loves me and that I am perfect just as I am, and in in the face of his honest blue eyes all I can do is believe that he means it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N…Aww, my girl. And Emmett…bless.   
> I just wanted to explain that I added in a pregnancy for Rosalie because I’ve always felt that vampire Rosalie’s inability to have a baby and be a mother is really key to her personality, and so I somehow needed her attack to leave her infertile. Chances of a rape making you definitely unable to get pregnant is…really, incredibly rare. Getting beaten severely enough to miscarry a baby and that leading to haemorrhaging and emergency hysterectomy is slightly more probable. And if that wasn’t the most distasteful and depressing avenue of research I’ve had to do, I don’t know what else would beat it!  
> Thanks SO MUCH to everyone reading and leaving me reviews…I love reading them and getting that feedback! I was a bit ambivalent about writing all human, but I’m completely sold on it now- I love my Rosalie girl being human and finding herself and her own strength in all this struggle.


	26. What's Good For You

We stay in the tub until the water cools. I have bared my soul to Emmett, and talking about that night has torn the scabs off my healing wounds and made me feel the pain of it all over again. In the aftermath of that emotional intensity I am feeling raw and bruised and exhausted, but Emmett’s love and tenderness as he towels me dry and kisses my scars is like a balm.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” he asks shyly. “I don’t want to do anything, I just want to be with you.” I nod, and his dimples deepen as he smiles at me. “Okay, I’m just going to go find some clothes. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I’m so tired and my bed looks so inviting that I can barely even summon the energy to find my pyjamas and get dressed before I crawl beneath the quilt. I find a pair of boxer shorts and a cami and pull them on, and I’m already in bed half asleep when the mattress dips as Emmett climbs in beside me. I half smile as I hear his pleased little growl when he wraps an arm around me and pulls me close to him, and I curl my back into him until we’re lying like spoons. The solid, reassuring warmth of him against my back and thighs feels so good. Even when I feel his cock getting hard and nudging up against my ass and Emmett whispers an embarrassed apology as he adjust himself so that it’s lying up against my back I don’t feel anything but sleepy and relaxed.

“It’s okay.” His breath tickles my neck as he pushes my hair out of the way and kisses my shoulder, and I don’t know if I want to go to sleep or just stay awake and feel this contentment forever.

“My baby was a girl.”

I don’t even realise I’ve said it aloud until I feel Emmett’s arms tighten around me and hear the crooning noise he makes. “You knew that?”

“The doctor told me at the hospital, when I woke up from the surgery and they were trying to explain what had happened and what they’d had to do to me. At sixteen weeks it’s basically fully formed, just…tiny. The doctor told me she was born in the ambulance when I was unconscious and she was maybe as long as my hand from head to toe…a perfect, tiny girl.”

“Oh, Rosa,” Emmett’s voice is gentle. “I’m sorry.”

“I’d already decided that if the baby was a girl I was going to call her after my mother, so she would have been named Lily.” I close my eyes. _Lily._

I’ve never told anyone this. For the three months I knew I was pregnant I told almost no one, hugging the secret to myself like something unutterably fragile and beautiful. _My baby Lily._ I’d been sure it was a girl, even then.  Not until the day that I tried to break up with him had I even told Royce. Then that night I’d told my friend Vera as I held her baby and thought that in five months it would be my own baby in my arms. She had offered me her pregnancy books and baby clothes and promised to help me, and I’d left her house determined to tell Jasper. As it turned out it was Jasper who would tell me when I woke up after surgery hours later that my baby was gone.

Emmett kisses me, his hand curled protectively across my belly where my baby Lily had lived her very brief life, and I let sleep overtake me. My last thought is of Emmett, and the way he has taken the burden of my secrets like they are something precious.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~

I sleep better than I have for months, and it’s well into the morning when I open my eyes and see that Emmett is still sound asleep beside me. For a moment I don’t do anything but look at him. _You really are beautiful._ His face is almost cherubic in sleep, with his full mouth relaxed and his long lashes lying across his cheeks, or it would be if his jaw and cheeks weren’t sprouting a considerable amount of dark stubble. He’s sprawled out on his back with one arm flung above his head and his other hand tucked down the front of the sweatpants he’s wearing, and for a minute I laugh silently and then gently pull the quilt back up to cover him.

He wakes like a sleepy bear, grumbling and groaning as he stretches, then rolling over and wrapping arm around me and pulling me against him. He’s hard, and his erection pokes me the belly as he rubs it against me and makes a little whimpering moan into my hair before he yawns and opens his eyes. For a moment he just looks at me in sleepy confusion, and then his eyes widen in horror and he jerks away from me.

“Christ, sorry!” He tries to adjust himself, looking mortified. “God, I was dreaming…please tell me I haven’t just been molesting you in my sleep.”

I can’t help laughing. “No, it’s fine…relax.”

Emmett groans and, giving up on being able to do anything to disguise the unmistakeable bulge in his crotch, rolls over to lie on his side facing me. He smiles at me, looking a little shy. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” I lay my hand on his chest and inch my head close enough to tentatively kiss his neck.

“You’re still…okay with this?” Emmett indicates himself in my bed, careful not to touch me. “No regrets?” I can see the tension in his jaw as he waits for my answer.

I shake my head. “No. Not if you’re…happy with this. If you want the hassle of all my drama…” I’m under no illusions that one night with Emmett is going to chase away the demons. I’m never going to be the uncomplicated girlfriend he should have.

“God, am I happy…” Emmett gives me that easy, blissful grin and wraps his arms around me, bringing me close. “I’ve never been so happy, baby…drama and all. I meant it when I said I love you.”

I suddenly don’t care that I’m all rumpled, and morning breath be damned because I want him. I throw my leg over his hip and kiss him, feeling his answering desire in the way he kisses me back, his hands roaming across my back and in my hair as I hold myself against him.

Just when I’m wondering where this is all going, and if I even want to stop at all, the bathroom door flies open and I hear the unmistakeable tones of Alice. “Rosalie, are you awake yet because…oh, my GOD!”

I jerk away from Emmett, yanking my cami back up to cover my boobs, but before anyone can say anything, Alice gives a wild shriek of laughter and disappears, banging the bathroom door behind her.

“Oh, that’s torn it,” Emmett mutters, sitting upright and running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, thought I locked her out of the bathroom last night.”

“That lock’s loose, you can jiggle it free,” I say absently, straightening my clothes. I look at Emmett apprehensively. “What will she do?”

“She’ll tell Edward and Jasper because she’s a hopeless gossip,” Emmett informs me. “And then Edward will tell Esme and Carlisle because he’s a fucking snitch.”

“Will they be mad?” I wrap my hair around my fingers and comb them through. I know I act like nothing bothers me, but I hate people being mad at me.

Emmett flops back on the bed and starts laughing. “If only that was all it was!” he exclaims. “That would be easy to deal with! No, they’re not going to be mad…it’s going to be worse than that. They’re going to be _concerned._ ” His face is alight with humour. “And they’re going to want to _talk_ about it.”

I look at him in horror. “Not seriously?”

“Oh yes!” Emmett shakes his head ruefully. “Teens and sexual health is one of Carlisle’s hot issues. He’ll go on about the disaster of abstinence only education all day and he hands out condoms like they’re Halloween candy. He even got the school board to let him do sex ed up at the school- do you know how hard it is being the new kid and having your dad in the classroom with his posters and pictures and info about diseases making everyone talk about what _really_ constitutes consent while they put condoms on bananas?”

I start giggling. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” Emmett groans. “It was gruesome. I mean, it’s really good obviously, knowledge is power and all that, I totally think it’s great that he does it…but it’s still embarrassing when they’re packing you off to camp and while everyone else’s parents are reminding their kids to eat their vegetables and get the recruiters’ names Carlisle and Esme are stuffing condoms in my bag and reminding me that unless there’s an enthusiastic yes, then it’s a no.” He buries his head in the pillow for a moment and then sits up with a grin. “Ah, fuck it… “ He flashes his dimples and holds out his arms. “I’d say you were a pretty enthusiastic yes for what we did last night…”

“ _Yes,”_ I say intently, moving over him and hearing the low whine of desire as I sit astride his belly and lower my face to his. “ _Yes, yes, yes_ …” Then there’s more kissing and more touching, and damn but he’s a quick learner because uses his hands to make me come with almost embarrassing speed. I return the favour and it’s only after that that we give it to the inevitable and get up, both of us going off to our own bathrooms to shower and then dress.

I put on jeans and a t-shirt and step cautiously downstairs. The evidence of the party is still spread all over the living room but I walk around it and go into the kitchen where Carlisle and Esme are reading the Sunday papers and doing the crossword.

“Morning Rosalie,” Esme says cheerfully. “How was last night?”

For a moment I think she’s talking about Emmett and I stare at her, completely taken aback, before I realise she’s talking about the party. “Oh, it was great,” I say hastily. “I had a really good night.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Carlisle says, scribbling in the last crossword clue. “Especially since now you and Alice and the boys are going to have the fun of cleaning it all up.”

I make a face at him and he laughs, his eyes crinkling up in amusement. “Have some breakfast first- you’ve all got a busy day ahead of you. Esme and I are going out for lunch, and we want it clean by the time we get back.”

I roll my eyes, but I knew we’d have to clean up and I don’t really mind. I pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit at the other end of the table, eating slowly. Emmett comes in whistling and as he walks behind me he reaches over me to take the cereal box. I can feel him against my back and it makes my body throb with remembered pleasure. I don’t look at him, but my face burns and I wonder how on earth I’m going to live in the same house with Emmett now.

I finish my cereal before Emmett, who is reading the sports pages and talking about football with Carlisle, and I grab a trash bag and head down to the basement to start there. Jasper is already down there, picking up plastic cups and some of the decorations that have fallen to the floor. I go the laundry and find a broom and begin sweeping the dance floor.

“Did you have fun at the party?” I ask Jasper as I work.

“It was okay,” he mutters.

The floor is sticky with spilled soda as I sweep it. Looking at Jasper I see that he’s scowling. “What’s up?”

For a long moment he doesn’t answer, and then he drops the trash bag and stands facing me, his arms crossed. “I know you slept with Emmett.”

I grip the broom handle tightly. “He slept in my bed, yes, but I didn’t have sex with him. Not that it’s any of your business if I did.” I know I’m playing with semantics. Emmett and I might not have had penetrative sex, but there was a hell of a lot of intimacy in what we did do.

Jasper’s jaw is tight. “I haven’t spent the last few months holding you together to have you throw it all away. You’ve made it my business, Rosalie.”

“What are you saying?” My voice is dangerously low.

“I didn’t say anything last time you decided to sleep with someone, even though I knew he was an asshole and…”

“This is _nothing_ like that.” My voice is shaking. “Emmett is not Royce…you _know_ him, Jas.”

Jasper’s eyes flicker. “I know that. Emmett’s okay. But you aren’t, Rose.” He hesitates and then plunges on. “You jump if someone looks at you sideways, you wake up screaming nearly every night, you have never once even _mentioned_ that baby and I know how much you wanted it…you’re so busy lying to yourself about everything that I don’t even know if you know what’s real anymore! Look, Emmett’s a good guy and I’ve got nothing against him, but you’re a mess Rosalie.”

I stare at him, barely able to breathe through my anger.

“I watched it happen last time,” Jasper says flatly. “I saw what Royce did to you, and I don’t mean at the end. I mean before that, when he fucked you up in the head so much that you thought everything he did was okay. I didn’t do anything then and I should have. You don’t know what’s good for you Rosalie, and I don’t want to have to pick up the pieces again when it all goes to hell.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a burden to you!” I snap icily.

“I didn’t say that,” Jasper says wearily. “I said…”

“I know what you said,” I spit out. “You think I don’t know how badly I screwed my life up with Royce? You think I don’t KNOW what he did to me…what I _let_ him do? I’m never doing that again Jasper, and I don’t need you to tell me that you think I am!”

“But you ARE!” Jasper shouts, his frustration getting the better of him. “Jumping into bed with Emmett…and I don’t care what you did there with him! You’re not ready for this Rosalie, and I can’t stand back and watch you let yourself get fucked over again knowing that I’m going to have to sort out the mess when you break!”

“Fuck you!” I scream back. I fling the broom away, and even the noise of the mirror shattering as it hits it doesn’t make me look away from Jasper. “You don’t get to tell me what to do! God Jasper, how can you have so little faith in me?” My voice breaking I turn and storm up the stairs to the kitchen.

“Rosalie, what happened down there?” Esme, Carlisle, and Emmett are all sitting at the table staring at me.

I ignore them and glare at Alice, who is over by the sink with a mug in her hand, staring at me with wide eyes. “Thanks,” I snarl at her. “You couldn’t even keep your big mouth shut for five minutes? Well fuck you too.”

“Rosalie…” Carlisle begins, but I don’t want his words. I don’t want any of them.

“Go to hell,” I say flatly, and then race to my room and lock the door before the tears start.


	27. Esme's Story

Up in my room I do something I haven’t done in weeks, and shut myself in the closet and drag out my suitcase, finding the manila envelope I’d hidden away inside. I sit for a moment, hating myself for what I’m about to do, but not stopping either as I reach inside with a shaking hand and pull out the photographs.

I took them from the lawyer one day. Copies of the photographs they took of me at the hospital after it happened, showing my injuries. I don’t know why I took them, and I don’t understand why I keep torturing myself with them, but they have a hold on me that I can’t break. The tears are blurring my eyes as I flip through them, sickened all over again by how almost unrecognisable they made me. And yet the photos don’t tell the whole story. You can’t photograph the emptiness they left inside me, the loss of my baby, the shattering of trust and innocence. None of that can be shown, and yet it’s those things that are tearing me apart now, long after all the bruises are gone and the broken bones have healed.

I let myself lie down on the carpet of my closet, the photos lying scattered in front of me. I don’t move, not when I hear Carlisle and Esme knocking at the door and calling to me, not even when they go through Alice’s room and come into my room through the bathroom and find me in the closet.

I hear Esme’s sharply indrawn breath as she takes in the pictures. I understand her shock- it’s one thing to hear about, but it’s another thing to _see_ that kind of brutality. She doesn’t say anything though, and her hands are firm and gentle as she touches my shoulder. “Come on Rosalie, we need to talk to you.”

I let her take my arm and I passively get to my feet and go into my bedroom and sit on the bed. Esme sits beside me and Carlisle, his hands full of the photos, sits in the desk chair.

“Why do you have these?” he asks quietly.

I shrug, staring out the window.

“Do you think they help you in some way?” Esme presses gently.

I shake my head wordlessly, and Carlisle bundles them together and slides them back into the manila envelope. “I’m going to take them then. I don’t think they’re what you need.” He pauses, clearly gathering his thoughts before he goes on. “We wanted to talk to you about a few things…we’ve been talking to Alice and Jasper and Emmett downstairs.”

I’m so tense I feel as though I could scream at any moment. I wrap my arms tightly around me and turn to face him. “Go ahead then.”

“We’re not here to yell or argue,” Esme says softly. “We just want to make sure you’re okay, and that you’re going to be careful.”

“Well you can relax knowing I can’t get pregnant,” I say, my voice brittle. “And you’re the one who tested me for every single STI in the world and said that I’m fine. So you know, your son’s safe enough.” I stare defiantly at Carlisle, who sighs and rubs his nose.

“Believe it or not Rosalie, that’s not what we were thinking about,” he says.

“We’re more concerned about you emotionally,” Esme says. “That…whatever you decide you want to happen with Emmett comes from a healthy place within you. That you’re honestly, _truly_ ready to move on, and that you don’t rush things and hurt yourself more. That you’re beginning to feel able to build trust and be honest with people.”

“Why do you even care?”

“Because you need people who do,” Esme says simply, and she’s sitting there looking at me like my mother used to look at me, and for a moment I think I’m going to choke on the misery. But then, for the second time in twenty four hours, I start sobbing and let someone hold me.

Esme does what I think my mother would have done. She lets me lie with my head in her lap while she strokes my hair and murmurs encouragement and calls me sweetheart, and she doesn’t say a thing when all my tears make her jeans wet. And I don’t even know why I’m crying…because I fought with Jasper or because I don’t know what to do with Emmett or because my own mother isn’t here to comfort me or because one night some boys hurt me, and for the rest of my life I’m going to carry the scars?

“We just want you to be careful,” Carlisle says, when my tears have dried up and I sit up shakily. “Think about what you’re doing. Don’t forget that you and Emmett have to live in this house together. He’s nineteen but you’re still underage Rosalie, so keep that in mind too.”

I nod, too tired to do anything else but curl up on my side, my back to them both, and close my eyes. I hear Carlisle leave the room, but Esme sits beside me, gently stroking my hair.

“You’ve got lovely hair,” she says, and then takes a breath and says, “Did you know that I was married before I met Carlisle?”

I roll over to face her and shake my head. “No.”

“Mmm, I was. His name was Charles and it lasted less than a year.” Esme looks thoughtfully out the window. “I was quite young. He was older than I was, a well thought of member of our church, and my parents liked him. I was at a small, conservative Christian college studying early childhood education and getting married at twenty one, right after graduation, was a normal thing there.”

“What happened?” I ask, interested in spite of myself.

“The honeymoon didn’t last long,” Esme smiles wryly. “In fact it lasted until the second day, when I put on a bikini to lounge by the hotel pool and Charles made me take it off and put on a much more conservative one-piece. That was just the beginning. He was very controlling. He couched it all in the language of love and protectiveness, but really it was simply about him owning me and shaping me to his will.”

I struggle to keep my breathing even. _Now_ I know why she’s telling me this story. I wonder how much Jasper has told them.

“I’d had a very sheltered upbringing, and been raised to believe that the man was head of the household. I tried my best to live up to Charles’ expectations, but it was impossible. I always failed, and gradually more and more of my self-confidence was eroded until I almost believed that I was worthless, and that it was only through his goodness and patience that he stayed with me. When he hit me for the first time, I felt that I deserved it.” Esme’s hands still in my hair. “It’s hard to imagine, from the outside, how it happens. But that kind of bullying is insidious and at the time I didn’t even realise what he was doing to me.”

“What made you get away?” I ask hoarsely.

“I became pregnant,” Esme says slowly. “I had been looking at ways to escape, and finding out there was going to be a baby gave me the push I needed. I found a temporary teaching job in a kindergarten in northern California, and I ran. I spent the next eight months teaching and preparing for my baby on my own. It was a struggle, but I was so determined to make it work.”

_What about the baby? You kept your baby safe from him…what happened to them?_

“I gave birth to a boy,” Esme says, as though she’s heard my question. “I named him William, and he lived for three beautiful days. He had a heart condition, and there was nothing they could do for him, so I simply held him and loved him and waited for him to go.” She takes a deep breath. “After he died, I didn’t want to live anymore. I didn’t know what the point was…I had no one and now I’d lost my baby. I tried to commit suicide.”

I don’t know how to react, so I just stare at her, trying to absorb all this. Esme – glamorous, perfect Esme – used to have a husband who hit her? She had a baby of her own and she lost him?

Esme’s smile is sad. “I wanted to share that with you Rosalie, because I thought maybe you’d find something in my story that means something to you. Even if it’s just that you aren’t alone in what you went through, and that my concern for you comes from a deep and honest place. I was all alone, and I tried to kill myself. I don’t want you to feel that kind of hopelessness… You’re not alone.”

“You found Carlisle though,” I say.

Esme laughs. “You could say he found me. He was the doctor in charge of my case when I was brought into the hospital after the suicide attempt, so in effect he saved my life then. Of course, it wasn’t a simple thing to learn to trust him, and in the end no one could heal me but myself. Carlisle could help me, and he did, but ultimately I was the one who had to come to terms with the past and move on.”

I know what she’s saying, but I don’t know how to do it for myself. Is what I did with Emmett last night part of moving on, or am I using him to hide from the truth? I know he said he wanted me drama and all, but how is that fair? How can I be enough for someone else when I’m so broken inside that I can’t even hold myself together…and what happens when it all falls apart? I close my eyes and sigh deeply, before I sit up and look at Esme.

“Thank you for telling me that,” I say awkwardly. “I didn’t know…and I can’t…” My words trail off.

Esme gives me an understanding smile and rises to her feet. “You’re welcome. I wanted you to know that you’re not just a boarder here- I’m here for you whenever you want to talk, and Carlisle and I do truly care.” She hesitates and says, “It all takes time Rosalie. The human spirit is both very fragile and very resilient at the same time…it’s easy to damage it, but almost impossible to destroy it. You will be okay.”

I don’t know if I believe her, but at the same time…aren’t I still here? Still trying to live, sometimes even still laughing?

“Now Carlisle and I are going out to lunch,” Esme says from the doorway. “The others are cleaning up after the party, and they’ll probably appreciate you giving them a hand if you feel up to it…we’ll be back this afternoon.”

I wait until I hear the car heading off down the driveway before I leave my room to go downstairs. I don’t really want to- I’m still angry at Jasper and I’m so confused about everything that I don’t even want to set eyes on Emmett, but I know I should help them.

“Rosalie!”

 _Fuck._  I haven’t even got two steps out of my room when I hear Emmett call my name as he comes out of his room with his laundry bag slung over his shoulder. He’s smiling at me, all happy blue eyes and dimples, and then he takes in my face and his smile fades.

“Are you okay? Jasper told me what he said to you…” He reaches out a hand and, without meaning to, I flinch. Emmett stares for a moment, and then his lips go tight as he drops his hand. “Sorry. I thought things were different now.”

I shake my head and back up until I can feel the wall against my shoulder blades and ass. “I’m sorry. I’m just…I don’t know.”

“Having second thoughts,” Emmett says flatly.

I just look at him. I don’t know how to explain to him how confused I am, how afraid. I don’t know how to make him understand that even though he’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out, I don’t know if I have it in me to be what he thinks I am.

“Right.” Emmett grips his laundry bag and edges away, his face blank. “If that’s the way you want it. I said I’m not going to do anything you don’t want to do…so it’s up to you. I thought, last night…but hey, whatever. Don’t mind me.”

 _It’s not like that! Last night was wonderful. YOU are wonderful Emmett, I just don’t know how to be with you when I’m so broken! I don’t know how to love you, how to let what I feel for you in my heart turn into reality…I wish I could find a way to make you understand._ But I don’t say any of it, and with one last long look Emmett walks away and I go back into my room and shut the door.


	28. Closer to True

I barely speak to Jasper or Emmett over the next few days, and Alice avoids me too. In fact I barely speak at all, and by the time I head to Kari’s house for my next therapy session I feel as though I’m liable to explode with all my confusion and unhappiness and anger.

Being Kari she notices, and after settling down with her pen and notepad she looks at me and comments mildly, “You seem a little wound up today, Rosalie. Has something happened?”

God, where to start? “I kissed Emmett,” I say at last. “Well, I more than kissed him.”

“Oh yes? And how did that go?”

“Good.” I remember the bathtub, and his hands on my breasts and between my legs and his lips on my neck as he made me come, and my body is flooded with remembered heat. “ _Really_ good.”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment as Kari gives her husky laugh, but she says easily, “I’m pleased for you. That’s good. It’s not uncommon for rape survivors to have trouble with sex afterwards, and I know you don’t like people to touch you…but it’s really great that you were able to have a positive, pleasurable experience.”

“I told him,” I say in a rush. “I told him everything about…about what happened to me. I even told him about the baby.”

“Well!” I think I’ve surprised her, because Kari stops writing notes and looks at me full in the face. “That sounds like a bit of a break through- it’s the first time you’ve voluntarily talked about it, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” I’m shivering, from tension or cold I don’t know. “But I…I wanted to tell him.”

“How did he react? And how did you feel after you told him?”

“He was amazing,” I whisper, and I can feel the tears start. Oh my god, is this crying ever going to stop? I think I’ve cried more in the past three days than I have in the last three months and I hate it! “He listened and he…he was just what I needed him to be.” I remember his lips on my scar and I touch it lightly with my fingertips. “I don’t think it mattered to him. He cares of course, because it hurt me, but he just takes me as I come…scars and issues and all.”

“That sounds really good,” Kari says, looking at me carefully. “But you’re crying now…”

“Because I messed it all up,” I say in a low voice. “Because when it was just me and Emmett it was beautiful. I thought I could just be _normal_ with him…I mean he’s been my friend and he makes me laugh and buys me peanut butter ice cream and has shared so much of himself I thought maybe I could just _try_ … But the next day I had a fight with Jasper and…you know, it’s NOT just me and Emmett playing dress ups and kissing, it’s real life and I always fuck everything up.”

I swipe angrily at the tears that won’t stop falling down my cheeks, and Kari pushes a box of tissues towards me. “Take some.”

I grab a handful and wipe my face. I’m furious that I can’t stop crying, and I’m horrified that all these words are spilling out of me…but it’s like telling Emmett has split me wide open and all my secrets are crawling out into the light, determined to be seen and heard and make me hurt all over again.

“You’re doing very well today, Rosalie,” Kari says quietly, when I don’t say anything. “I know these are tough things to talk about…can we try and keep going? I’d like to know what happened with Emmett, and what you and Jasper fought about. I know that’s unusual for you two.”

“We never fight,” I say tightly. “Not since we were little and we fought over toys. We need each other too much to fight, and we know each other so well there’s hardly ever any reason to fight.”

“So what happened on the weekend?”

“Alice walked in on Emmett and I in the morning and couldn’t wait to go and spread the gossip, so of course she went right to Jasper. He didn’t ask me about it, just assumed that meant I had sex with Emmett and…” I bite my lip, before I go on quietly. “Jasper said…he said I don’t know what’s good for me. He said that I’m lying to myself so much that I don’t know what’s real, and he doesn’t want to have to hold me together anymore.”

“Do you think there’s any truth in what he said?” Kari asks. “It obviously upsets you- is that because he’s wrong or right?”

“Because he’s _right_!” I shout at her. “Because what happened to me is all my fault and I’ve tried to pretend otherwise but it’s not true! And if I let _that_ happen to me, how can I trust myself about anything ever again?”

Kari stops her frantic writing to look me in the eye. “Rosalie, what happened to you is not your fault,” she says bluntly. “It is not your fault that you were raped and assaulted…it is the fault of the men who did it to you and no one else.”

“But I let him in to my life,” I whisper. Oh, why bother trying to keep secrets now? “I let Royce in and I kept him there, and I let him fuck with my head until I didn’t know which way was up…I let him hurt me, and I forgave him and he did it again and I still let him stay. If I had been stronger, if I’d broken up with him sooner, the first time he hurt me…he would never have got to the point where he thought to punish me like that.” I cover my face and I sob, because Jasper was right that I lie to myself and now the truth is coming out and it’s brutal.

“The psychology of abuse is complicated, Rosalie,” Kari says gently. “We’re going to talk about that, look at what happened so that you understand how you came to feel the way you did, but the fact that you were vulnerable to Royce’s manipulation doesn’t mean you are at fault. Abuse is never the victim’s fault.”

“But I _let_ him do it,” I say angrily. “How is that _not_ my fault?”

“You let him rape you? You let him and four of his friends gang rape you and beat you badly enough that you needed surgery and nearly died?” Kari raises her eyebrows.

The truth, stated so unflinchingly, makes me catch my breath. “Not that last time,” I mutter. “But sometimes before that…”

“What happened before then?” For once Kari’s not writing, just leaning forward and looking at me intently.

I shake my head.

“Come on Rosalie, try. You’ve done so well today…you can do this too. Had Royce raped you before?”

“Not like that.” My voice sounds small and far away. “I never said _no_ …”

“But you didn’t always say yes?” Kari asks, after a long pause.

I turn my head away. “You must think I’m pathetic.”

“No.” Kari says. “I don’t think you’re pathetic at all. It’s very common in that kind of abusive relationship that women will go along with things to keep the peace. Sometimes it’s the only way to keep safe.”

“It was easier to let him have his way. And it wasn’t like I hated having sex with him or didn’t ever get anything out of it.” Again, I feel the blush heating my face.

“And that’s normal too,” Kari tells me. “You’re a healthy young woman and it’s absolutely normal that you would respond sexually to him. Again, that doesn’t mean you invited or deserved the abuse.”

I’m staring out the window, my hair hanging like a silk curtain between me and Kari. “It was why I got pregnant,” I say, and my voice is so low that I don’t even know if she will hear me. “Because he wanted what he wanted when he wanted it…I was on the pill but I missed a couple of pills because I forgot to take them with me on the cheer weekend away. I knew it wasn’t safe and I _told_ him, but he didn’t care and he wouldn’t use anything…”

I can’t help but contrast this with Emmett, with his gentle hands and touches that waited for me to want more before he moved ahead, who had pushed nothing on me but only offered. And I had turned him away.

“I ruin everything,” I say, and my voice is hollow with grief. “I hate you for making me talk about this.”

“You can hate me if you want,” Kari says gently. “But all this talking is going to help you. You’ve broken down a lot of barriers today Rosalie, you’ve brought up a lot things that are stuck in your mind and stopping you from living a full and healthy life. Now that we know what these issues are we can work on them. You can’t change what happened to you, but you can change the grip it has on your life and take back control.”

Me spilling my guts has made the session run late, and instead of meeting the others in the school parking lot they’re waiting for me in front of Kari’s house. I don’t say anything beyond a request to stop at the grocery store as I slide into the backseat beside Jasper, and no one says anything to me as Edward parks in front of the store and I run in. The drive home is silent, but as we speed through the forest, dripping with rain and unbelievably green, Jasper lays his hand palm up on the seat between us, and without looking at him I press mine against it.

At home I go upstairs and wash my face and change from my school clothes into more casual yoga pants and a t-shirt before I go in search of Emmett. Unusually, he’s not in the kitchen eating, not downstairs weightlifting and not in front of the tv, but when I go back upstairs I see that his door is closed, and taking a deep breath I knock.

“Yeah?”

I don’t know if this is an invitation or not, but I push open the door anyway and step inside. Emmett is lying face down on the bed, his arms wrapped around the back of his head, and my heart twists as I look at him. “Emmett?”

I hear a muffled curse and then he’s standing up by the bed, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he stares at me. “What?”

I hold up the carton of rapidly softening Rocky Road ice cream I’m holding and offer him a spoon. “I thought maybe you might want to share with me,” I offer timidly. “I bought your favourite.”

Warily Emmett sits back on the bed, leaning against the headboard, and I pick my way across the minefield of his floor and sit cross legged on the bed facing him.

“You start,” he says when I offer him the ice cream, and so I scoop out a spoonful and lick it clean before I hand it over to him. For several minutes we just take turns, eating quietly, both of us looking when we think the other person won’t see.

“I’m sorry about the weekend,” I say finally, realising that Emmett is waiting for me to set the parameters of this conversation.

He’s not looking at me now. “Which part?” he asks quietly. “The part where you kissed me, or the part where you basically told me to pretend it didn’t happen?”

I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry that I didn’t try and talk to you. I’m sorry that I let my issues get in the way of something that was…really, really great.”

This time Emmett does look at me, frowning as he licks the spoon clean of ice cream and then hands it back to me. “I don’t want you to mess me around Rosalie,” he says, and I can’t turn away from the honest vulnerability in his eyes as they look into mine. “Because when I told you I loved you, I meant it. I love you, and I want to be with you. And if you can’t do that, or don’t want to do that, then that’s okay, but you need to be straight with me about what you want and where we stand.” He bites his knuckles as he waits for my answer.

I scrape the sides of ice cream carton. _Say it. SAY IT._ God, why does this feel like the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done? “I want you,” I mumble finally, not daring to meet his eyes. “The way you make me feel Emmett, whenever I’m around you…I didn’t know I could feel like that. I want to be with you.” My voice is shaking.

I hear Emmett exhale, and then he takes the empty ice cream carton and the spoon from my hands and puts them on the floor. “Good,” he says simply. “We can work with that.”

“I can’t make you any promises,” I say, and my voice is bleak. “I am a thousand different kinds of messed up Emmett, so don’t kid yourself that that happily ever after is magically going to happen. But if you want me…I can promise you that I’ll try.”

“Come here and let me hold you,” he says, and I crawl across the bed and sit beside him, with his arm around me and my head resting against his shoulder. “Trying is good enough,” he says, his voice gruff. “We’ll work it out. Maybe take things a bit slower…I dunno.”

“As long as taking things slower doesn’t mean I can’t do this,” I say, sliding a leg over his thighs so that I’m straddling his lap and all it takes is the slightest tilt of my head and just a teeny bit of leaning closer until I can take his bottom lip in between mine and start kissing him.

“Oh no,” Emmett says breathlessly, as his arms wrap around me and hold me tight. “I think there needs to be a lot of that. And maybe some of this too…” And he laughs and buries his face in my neck, kissing me in the curve of my shoulder so that I shiver even as I laugh back at him. _Oh yes…lots of that too._


	29. A Stolen Future

Emmett and I might have the best of intentions about taking things a little more slowly, but I don’t know how long it’s going to last. Not when half an hour after we agreed to it we’re tangled together on his bed and I’m thinking hazily how much I want to unbuckle his belt and open his jeans and play with what I can feel so enticingly hard inside them. Not when Emmett’s got his hand up under my t-shirt and is kissing my neck and earlobes in a way that is making me lose my mind.

“Ah-hem. Excuse me?” Someone coughs discreetly and then knocks at the open door.

“What?!” Emmett bellows, raising his head. “Oh…Mom,” he says, sounding a little sheepish and sitting up.

I yank my clothes back into place and scramble upright, flipping my hair back and trying to breathe normally. I notice that Emmett has grabbed a pillow and is holding it over his lap and I’m suddenly struck by an irresistible case of the giggles. I press my fist to my mouth to stop myself from laughing aloud, but my shoulders are shaking. I’m too embarrassed to look at Esme.

“I’ve got your laundry,” Esme says, placing a basket on the floor by the door. “You need to put it away, Emmett, and not leave it in the dryer for days on end.”

“Sorry,” Emmett says apologetically. “I forgot.”

“I assumed so. I also came up to see if you needed any help, since you were meant to be studying. SATs on Saturday, remember?” Esme smiles at me as I accidentally catch her eye. “Hello Rosalie.”

Emmett groans. “Yes, I remember and I’ll start studying, but no, I don’t want any help.”

“Okay then, but see that you do some work before dinner please. I’m sure you have homework too, Rosalie?” Esme raises her eyebrows at me, and I nod meekly.

“Don’t go,” Emmett protests, as Esme strides off down the hallway and I get to my feet.

“I should, you’re supposed to be doing some work,” I say half-heartedly.

“I’ll work better if you’re here,” Emmett declares, and I snort in disbelief.

“Oh, you really think so?” I shake my head, and then relent as I see the look of despair and loathing he throws at the SAT prep books piled on the desk. “Look, I’ll go and get my books and I’ll do my homework in here with you. But you have to study.”

When I return Emmett is sitting up against the headboard, chewing on a pen and gazing out the window with the SAT prep book unopened on his lap. “It’s not going to go into your head by osmosis,” I prompt him. “Get reading.”

Emmett sighs and opens the book reluctantly. “What’s the point? I studied last time – kind of- and my scores were just fucking embarrassing.”

“You’ll do better this time,” I say confidently. “Everyone improves the second time round.” I’m talking out my ass- I have no idea if people improve or not, and I hope he doesn’t challenge me. I stretch out on the bed beside him, facing away from him and switch on my e-reader.

“Hey sleepyhead, wake up.”

I don’t mean to fall asleep, but the next thing I know Emmett’s breath is tickling my ear and he’s gently stroking my arm. I yawn and then roll on to my back and stretch, feeling Emmett’s fingers lightly running across my bare belly as my t-shirt rides up. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah- you’ve been out all afternoon,” Emmett tells me, kissing my forehead. “I figured you must need it. But dinner’s ready now, so wakey wakey.”

I groan slightly. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

I make a quick stop in the bathroom, grimacing at my reflection in the mirror as I wash my hands. I look like shit. I’m pale and my eyes are still bloodshot from all that crying, and despite my nap there are dark circles under my eyes. I brush my hair quickly and then hurry downstairs to join the others at the dinner table.

Esme serves pasta in a creamy sauce with homemade garlic bread. It’s delicious and for a few moments no one talks as we’re all too busy eating. I don’t think I ever want to move away from Esme’s cooking.

“How did the studying go, Emmett?” Esme asks. “Are you feeling any more confident about the test now?”

Emmett’s mouth is full but he rolls his eyes and wrinkles his nose dramatically. Clearly the studying didn’t go that well, and as he swallows he confirms this. “It’s shit, Esme. I’ll probably go worse than last time.”

“Mind your language,” Carlisle reminds him. “And it’s probably not as bad as you think. Your teachers all agree that you’ve improved since last spring.”

“Are you redoing the SATs?” Jasper asks.

“Yes.” Emmett scowls, and I notice that his ears are red, the only outward sign of embarrassment he makes. “I bombed last year.”

“I’m sure you’ll do better on Saturday,” Carlisle says encouragingly. “Just keep up the studying, do the practice tests and I’m sure you’ll get a reasonable result. You know what the recruiters have been saying…”

“Yes, I know,” mutters Emmett. He catches Jasper’s curious look and sighs. “We’ve been talking to college baseball recruiters for a while,” he says glumly. “They want me, but they think I’m a dumbass who’ll flunk out first semester and be a waste of a pick.”

“Emmett!” Esme says chidingly, as Alice giggles at him. “Don’t talk about yourself that way! They’re just concerned about how you’ll handle college academic requirements, that’s all, and would like to see a better SAT score from you. And _we_ know you’ll be fine with a bit of effort and a bit of help once you’re there.”

Emmett rolls his eyes and stuffs his mouth full of pasta. “You know I could just go play in the minor league and we wouldn’t have to worry about any of this,” he says sulkily.

“We’ve talked that one out Emmett,” Carlisle says tiredly. “While you might be lucky enough to get picked up for the major league and make a career out of it, the odds aren’t great, even excluding injuries. You’re better off getting a degree and playing at college and going pro after that if you still want to. At least you’ll have a degree and something to fall back on if the worst happens.”

Emmett looks up to the ceiling with an air of long suffering patience, and Esme looks from him to Carlisle and sighs before she turns to look at Jasper and I. “What about you two? Are you prepared for college applications? You know if you want to do visits and interviews and things you only need to let us know.”

Jasper swallows his mouthful of pasta. “I’m good, thanks. It’s already done. I’m applying early decision to Columbia, and if I don’t get in there I can pretty much reuse my essays for my other preferences.”

Carlisle and Esme look impressed, but I drop my fork with a clatter. “I didn’t know you’d made up your mind about that,” I say, slightly accusingly. I am ridiculously, unreasonably, hurt to think that Jasper has made this decision without talking to me.

Jasper looks uncomfortable. “Didn’t I tell you? You knew it was a possibility.”

I can also feel a sense of panic rising at the prospect of Jasper going off to college without me- I’ll never be accepted into Columbia. I don’t even _want_ to go to Columbia. Jasper and I never had any plans to go to the same college…why do I suddenly feel betrayed that he’s going somewhere I can’t follow? I bend down to pick up my fork, briefly hiding my face my face under the table.

“Rose,” Jasper says quietly. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

“It’s fine,” I say with slightly forced brightness. “You’ve always wanted to go there, it makes sense to apply early. They’ll accept him,” I add in Esme and Carlisle’s direction. “His SAT results were amazing, and he’s got some great letters of recommendation.” Before I dragged him with me to Forks he also had a good lot of extra-curricular activities to improve his chances. Jasper’s been aiming for Columbia for years. I stuff a forkful of pasta into my mouth.

“What about you?” Esme asks me.

“Rose wants to go to NYU and do law,” Jasper answers for me when he sees my mouth is still full.

I shake my head and swallow. “No. I changed my mind…I don’t want to do that.” Law? After my experiences with the legal system? And going back to New York, even if it’s on the other side of the state…not in a million years. And especially not NYU.

“What then?” Jasper demands, and he’s frowning in bewilderment. “You were so sure.”

“I changed my mind,” I put my fork down carefully and sit back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest defensively.

“Changed it to what? You’ve only got a little while before applications are due…are you thinking law somewhere else? Or NYU and a different program?” Jasper persists.

I can feel myself starting to sweat. “I don’t know anymore.”

“But…”

“God Jasper, just quit it!” I shout. “Of course I’m not going to NYU…use your brain! Who else was going to be there? Why do you think that was my first choice?” I’m shaking. “And you think it’s possible for me to do law after all _that_?! You know, my dealings with the legal profession weren’t so great that I want to spend the rest of my life there!”

Jasper jerks back like I’ve hit him, looking sick. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I forgot.”

Suddenly I’m furious, a wave of red hot anger crashing through my body. “Yeah? Well I don’t have the luxury of forgetting,” I snarl. “Not when I carry a reminder scarred into my skin and see them in my dreams every night. So forgive me if my fucked up present life means I don’t have my future all perfectly mapped out like you do!”

Kicking back my chair so hard it falls over with a crash, I storm away from the table and out of the room. I know I’ve been unfair to Jasper, but the fountain of rage boiling inside of me demanded release. And the people I am really angry with, the animals who ruined my life and stole my future, are far beyond my reach.

The tears – these goddamned fucking tears!- come again and I stumble slightly on the stairs leading down to the rec room. I am so angry I want to smash things, but the empty place on the wall where I broke the mirror on the weekend seems to glow at me accusingly. Fighting to control myself I go to the treadmill and turn it on high, and then I channel all that rage into running. I run until my lungs ache and the sweat mingles with the tears and makes my eyes burn, run until my legs feel like they’re on fire and I have to jump off the treadmill and get into the bathroom before my dinner comes back up. On my knees in front of the toilet I vomit, again and again, until my belly is empty before I lie down, clammy and shaky, on the cold tile floor.

Jasper’s waiting for me when I come back out again, sitting on the weight bench with his elbows on his knees. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“I just ran too soon after eating,” I say, leaning against the treadmill. “I’m sorry I went off my head at you,” I add awkwardly. I hate apologising, but the adrenaline fuelled running has burned off the rage and now the guilt is settling in, cold and heavy.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I’d sent in the application,” Jasper says. He looks tired and unhappy. “I didn’t think about everything that’s happened…I guess I still had it in my head that you’d be at NYU and I’d go to Columbia like we used to talk about.”

“I don’t know anymore what I want to do next year,” I say honestly. “I only know that it can’t be in New York, and it won’t be law.” I stare past him at our reflection in the mirror and say quietly, “I haven’t even thought about the future since it all happened, because when I do all I can think about is what I can’t do and won’t have.”

“Oh, Rosie,” Jasper says compassionately. “I know that it’s hard, but you can’t let that define your life. You can still be a mom one day, even if a baby comes to you a different way…”

“You don’t understand,” I say, but this time it’s a defeated statement of fact and not an accusation. “Please Jasper, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t have to go to Columbia,” Jasper offers, his voice low. “If you wanted to go somewhere else, together, we could look at it…”

“Oh, hush,” I say, my voice brusque in an effort to hide how much his offer means. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course you’re going to Columbia! I’ll just....well, I’ll just look into other schools for me. Maybe stay here on the west coast or something.” I try and smile.

Jasper doesn’t look convinced. “I just hate to see you give up on your future plans because of _them_ ,” he mumbles.

“It’s not just because of them,” I say, moving restlessly across the room. “It’s because of me, and just because everything is different now. And Jas, even if that night had never happened…well, there would have been the baby then.” It takes such effort to mention her! My baby. “I wouldn’t have been going to NYU and doing law like we planned, not next year anyway.”

Jasper buries his face in his hands. “I wish I could do more.”

“You’ve done everything you could,” I say, drifting over to him and resting my hand on his hair. “More than anyone could have expected of you really, and even though I don’t say it I am incredibly grateful to you and I love you for it. In the end though…it’s up to me.” 


	30. The Impact on the Victim

“Esme, can you drive me out to the reservation tomorrow?” I ask with a grin as I come hurrying into the kitchen where she is sitting at the kitchen table with Emmett and the cursed SAT prep books. “Jacob just gave me a call and my car is ready! I just need someone to drive me out there so I can pick it up, and then I’ll finally be independent!”

“Of course I’ll take you out there,” Esme says cheerfully. “I’m going to do the grocery shopping tomorrow morning, so I can drop you off when I’m out then. Unless you want me to drive you to Port Angeles?” she says to Emmett, her voice concerned. “I don’t mind, and if you’re feeling stressed it might be better not to drive. I can do my shopping there just as well and Edward can drive Rosalie to La Push in the Volvo.”

Emmett looks miserable. “I’m taking the Jeep. I’ll be fine driving myself.” He gives me a dim smile. “That’s great that your car is done.”

Esme passes the book back to him. “Look how well you did that time! Truly Em, you’re going to do much better tomorrow. Just remember to take your time and stay calm and you’ll be fine.”

Emmett shrugs at the result and looks at Esme pleadingly. “Please can I stop now?”

I hide my grin. Emmett must be twice Esme’s size, but he sounds like a small boy begging for treats.

“Yes, go on,” Esme says. “You’ve worked hard and you’re not going to learn anything else tonight. Go and relax. Edward’s going to put a dvd on and we’re having pizza for dinner.”

“Oh great!” Emmett cheers up immediately. Picking up the SAT prep books he tosses them across they kitchen where they land on top of the (closed) trash bin with a clatter. “Enough of _that_ crap,” he says in satisfaction.

“Emmett!” Esme scolds.

“What?” he protests. “I’m done with them! For better or worse the test is tomorrow and I’m not looking at those books again.”

“Yes, but Alice and Edward are doing the SATs in spring and they might want them,” Esme says sternly. “So you can put them in the study for now, thank you.”

Emmett collects the books and takes them to the study before he joins me on the sofa in the living room. I’ve claimed the corner, and even with Jasper looking a little pained and Alice giggling at him, Emmett’s not shy about sitting right beside me and pulling my legs across his lap. “Okay?” he asks me, and I nod, still a little surprised at how easy it is to have him touch me.

The movie is something Edward chose, full of unlikeable characters mooning about through moodily lit scenes, and I’m bored within the first five minutes. I’m glad when Carlisle returns home with the pizza and once I’ve eaten my fill I throw a cushion down on Emmett’s lap and lay my head down. I’ve got no idea what’s happening in the movie now, but as Emmett curls one hand in my hair and strokes the other down my side to my hip and back again I don’t care. I’m concentrating far more on the way my body feels when Emmett touches me than I am on what’s happening on the screen.

My phone ringing interrupts this, and when I see that it’s my dad I’m very tempted not to answer it at all. I’m so relaxed and happy and I know he’ll only spoil it, but I grit my teeth and pick it up. “Hi dad.”

“Rosalie, hi. Glad you answered.” I can tell that he’s calling me from the car. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, how are you?” I get up from the couch and wander off towards the downstairs bathroom. I might think the movie is boring but Edward, Jasper and Esme are absorbed and I don't want to disturb them.

“Good, good, busy as always….” Dad breaks off into a string of curses that I assume is aimed at another car and not me. He’s the worst driver, but blames everyone else around him for all his near collisions. “How’s school going?”

“School’s okay.” I’m in the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror and debating if I need to trim my hair. “I’m getting the Camaro back tomorrow,” I say, remembering. “They’ve finished it.”

“About time,” Dad grumbles. “I feel like I’ve been shelling out money for that thing for months. I’ve spoken to that Sam Uley on the phone though, and he seems like a reasonable man.”

“Yeah, he’s been good,” I say absently. Jacob’s done most of the work on the car but he didn’t feel confident in dealing with my dad so Sam, as a professional mechanic, has stepped in there. I squint at my reflection. Am I getting a zit on my forehead?

“Anyway Rose, I rang to let you know that the lawyer has been back in touch about the civil case. We’re looking at a court date in December.”

“What?” I clutch the edge of the counter, all thoughts of pimples or haircuts vanishing. “Dad, I told you I didn’t want to do that.”

“And I told you we were going ahead with it,” Dad says impatiently. “The lawyer isn’t making any promises, but we’re asking for a few million…that bastard is going to pay.”

“Dad…” I can feel the panic creeping up, tightening around my chest. “That isn’t going to help anything. Please, just let it go.”

“Let it go?” Dad snorts. “Are you joking? Jesus Rosalie, after what they put you through you want to just _let it go?_ ”

“They’re already in prison, and it’s not as though money is going to make any difference _now_ ,” I choke.

“It’ll pay for all your surgery and hospitalisation and therapy. All that medical care doesn’t come cheap,” Dad says, and his lack of tact and sensitivity would astound me if he wasn’t always like that. It’s not that he _means_ to be cruel, he just has no idea what words can do and how they can make someone feel. “I’m going to give Carlisle a call and get him to put together the medical reports that we’ll need, and you’ll have to come and do a victim impact statement.”

“What?” My heart is pounding. Surely he doesn’t mean I have to be involved in this?

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what dad has in mind. “I want you there when the case is heard,” he tells me. “You need to write a victim impact statement- articulate what happened and the impact it’s had on your life. I’m going to put in a call to your therapist, I’m sure she’ll help you put something together.”

 He wants me to stand up in court and talk about this in front of strangers? Tell them all those horrible details, display all my physical and emotional scars for people to judge? _No._ I try and say that it’s impossible, that I refuse, but the terror has me in its iron grip now and the only sound I can make is a wheezy gasp of panic.

“So I’ll talk to your therapist, I’ve got the number somewhere,” Dad says briskly. “And I’ll book your ticket back when I have a court date. It’ll be fine Rose, I’m sure you’ll be glad you went after the bastard once it’s done. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll let you know how things go.”

He doesn’t even wait for me to answer before he hangs up. Not that I can say anything, caught up in the worst panic attack of my life. _I can’t do it! I can’t stand up and tell people about this, I can’t go back there and do that…oh god, please don’t let him make me…_ I don’t realise that I’m sobbing until I hear someone banging on the door and calling my name, but I can’t answer. I can’t talk and I can’t breathe and my heart is drumming painfully hard and fast in my chest, and I’m almost relieved when the darkness closes over my head and blots everything out.  

“Rosalie? Can you hear me?”

I can feel hands on me, touching my wrist and my forehead, and I instinctively jerk away from them. “Don’t!” I struggle to sit up, moaning as my head and face throbs. “What…”

“Calm down Rosalie.” It’s Carlisle, kneeling at my side and looking at me in concern. “You had another panic attack and you passed out.”

I groan and touch my face. “What the hell?”

“You hit something when you fell,” Jasper is on the floor by Carlisle, and I can see Emmett in the doorway behind him.

I’m shaking. “There’s going to be a civil trial,” I say, and the panic is swirling once again. “Dad is going to make me go and talk and I can’t do that _, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…_ ” I’m nearly screaming.

Esme appears with Carlisle’s bag, and he takes something from it and then pours a glass of water and gives it to me with a small pill. “Take this Rosalie,” he says. I’m shivering and tears are dripping down my face, the memories flickering unstoppably, and I feel like I’m losing my mind.

“I’ll talk to your dad,” Carlisle says soothingly, as Esme kneels beside me and wipes my face with a cool cloth. “He’ll understand that it’s not that easy for you.”

“He won’t make you do anything that’s not good for you,” Esme adds reassuringly. “We all just want the best for you. Now come on out of the bathroom sweetie, this floor isn’t comfortable.”

I catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror as I stand up. I don’t know what I hit, but there’s a darkening, swelling lump on my forehead and a bruised line across my cheek and I feel the hysteria threatening. Oh god, my face again…the images from the photographs taken after the assault flash across my mind and I want to be sick.

Jasper knows where my thoughts are going. “It’s fine Rose,” he says quietly. “Come on, don’t look…”

I stumble after him into the living room. The movie is on pause and Alice and Edward are sitting about, awkwardly not looking at me. I’m still breathing unevenly, and my heart is thudding, but I hate being the centre of concern like this. “Go on,” I say unsteadily. “Keep playing the movie, I’m just going to go upstairs.”

Emmett comes upstairs with me, his arm feeling strong and reassuring across my back. He guides me to my room and then down onto the bed, lying behind me and wrapping his arms around me. I try and match my breathing rate to his slow, relaxed pace and it helps. The combination of the bash on the head, the medicine Carlisle gave me and Emmett’s warmth are making me feel almost dreamlike, and I turn and smile at him as I reach up and touch his face.

“You’re beautiful,” I say wonderingly.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Emmett answers, dropping his head down to kiss my forehead. His eyes are shadowed with concern. “Are you really okay now?”

“Mm-hmm.” I rest my head against his shoulder. “I don’t want to go to court.” My voice is tiny.

“I don’t understand,” Emmett admits. “Aren’t they in jail? What’s a civil trial going to do?”

“It’s about compensation really,” I sigh. “Royce…well, his father really…he’s really wealthy. Royce has a trust fund that’s more money than I’ll probably ever see in my life, and by the time he gets out it’ll be his. My dad is basically suing him for damages, and I’m Exhibit A.” I shudder. “He wants me to stand up in court and tell a bunch of strangers about what happened to me, and detail exactly how it’s ruined my life…I can’t do it, Emmett. I can’t give away that much of me.”

“You don’t have to,” Emmett murmurs into my hair. “No one will make you, not even your dad.”

“He doesn’t take no for an answer,” I say grimly. “Not from me anyway.”

“Carlisle will talk to him,” Emmett reassures me. “Everyone listens to him. He’ll get you out of it.”

“I don’t care how many millions of dollars my dad thinks I can get out of it,” I mumble. “As if all the money in the world is going to make up for what happened, or give me back my baby.”

Emmett makes a murmuring noise of comfort and I push myself closer to him. Oh, he smells so _good_ and those beautifully kissable lips are so _close…_ I suddenly wish I’d met him earlier, when things were easy and I knew who I was. Not now, when all I know is how messed up I am.

“You want me to let you go to sleep?” Emmett brushes my hair back from my forehead. “Carlisle gave you some Valium…you’re looking pretty woozy.”

“Stay with me,” I whisper, burying my face in his neck.

“I’ll stay till you fall asleep,” he promises. “I have to get up early for the SAT exam.” He gently tugs off my jeans, sighing a little longingly when he sees the purple lace knickers I’m wearing underneath. “You know I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight because I’ll be thinking about you in these panties,” he tells me with a grin, kissing my bare hip and then covering me up with the quilt.

“I’m wearing the matching bra,” I say, wriggling out of it under my t-shirt and tossing it on to the end of the bed.

“Thanks for letting me know, that really helps,” Emmett says dryly.

I giggle, snuggling down into the quilt as Emmett stretches out on the bed beside me. “I hope your exam goes well tomorrow,” I mumble. “You’ve worked hard.”

“We’ll see,” Emmett sounds relaxed as he rubs my back through the quilt. “I’ve studied more than I did last time…but whatever happens, happens. It’s not the end of the world.” He nuzzles my neck, and even as my eyes close and I drift off to sleep I hear him. “And when it’s all over I get to come home to you. We’re going to make this work baby, I promise.”


	31. Learning About Leah

Emmett is long gone when I rise the next morning. I cross my fingers that he does as well as he needs to on the SAT, and then hurry downstairs. I can’t wait to get my car.

I go with Esme to do the grocery shopping first though. With seven people in the house, three of them teenage boys, we go through a _lot_ of food, toilet paper and deodorant. Having someone along to push a second trolley is a big help to Esme when it comes to restocking the pantry. After we’ve loaded everything in to the car she takes the road to La Push and drops me off outside the Black’s house.

The garage door is closed, and there’s no noise coming from within. A little apprehensively I walk over to the little redwood cottage and knock on the front door.

“Got it dad!” I hear Jacob shout from inside, and then the door is flung open and he’s standing there grinning at me. “Hey Rosalie.”

“Hi,” I say brightly. “I believe you’ve got something for me?”

Jacob laughs. “Sure have, and you’re going to _love_ it.” He twists his head and says loudly behind him, “Dad, I’m just going out…”

“Bring her in son.” The deep voice of Jacob’s dad can be heard easily.

Jacob rolls his eyes and his cheeks pink a little as he looks at me apologetically. “Sorry…do you mind coming in and saying hi to the old man? He’s wanted to meet you. He doesn’t get out much, and he’s been hearing all about the Camaro.”

“Um, no, I don’t mind,” I say, a little awkwardly as I hastily comb my hair into place with my fingers and straighten up my top, making sure that there’s not too much boob showing.

Jacob watches me with amusement. “You look fine,” he says casually. “Come on in. Excuse the mess- it’s just me and dad.”

The front door opens into a tiny entryway, and the living room is right off this. I only need to take about three steps before I’m standing in front of an older man sitting on the sofa with his legs stretched out along the cushions and covered with an afghan. His dark hair is streaked with grey and tied back into a long plait, and his dark eyes look at me intently as he holds out his hand. “Sorry I can’t get up,” he says, indicating the wheelchair parked by the sofa. “I’m Billy Black, Jacob’s dad. It’s good to meet you.”

I shake it, a little surprised by the firm grip. “I’m Rosalie. It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Now I see why all the boys have been working so hard on the car,” Billy says, amused. He side-eyes Jacob. “Just because you like the Camaro, huh?”

“Dad,” Jacob says. He’s blushing, but he smiles at his dad as his dad smiles back, and I’m struck by how alike they look.

“That’s a lot of car for a little girl like you,” Billy says to me.

Coming from most people this would offend me, but Billy Black seems so honestly glad that I’ve dropped by to say hi and he looks at his son with such genuine affection that I already like him. “I can handle it,” I say confidently, which makes him laugh.

“I bet you can,” he says. “Okay Jacob, I’ll stop embarrassing you now- you can go give Rosalie back her car. If you’re going out, I’d appreciate it if you’d drop Sue’s casserole dish back at the Clearwater place.”

Jacob rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Come on Rosalie.” He leads the way back outside and over to the garage, where he throws open the doors with a flourish. “And….there you go!”

I clap my hands over my mouth, too overcome with happiness to even say anything. The Camaro looks _fantastic_ , the new paint a deep cherry red, all the chrome gleaming…”Oh my god, it looks amazing!” I whisper. “Jacob, this is so, so…oh my god, I don’t even know what to say!”

Jacob is beaming, clearly enjoying my pleasure. He follows me as I walk over to it and run my hands along the shining paintwork. “This is better than I imagined!” I tell him fervently. “I just wish…god, my mother would have loved this! She loved this car you know.”

“Oh, that reminds me…” Jacob goes over to the bench, and when he returns he hands me the plastic envelope with the insurance and registration information in it. Stuck in front, where it can be seen, is a photograph of my mom in the car with Jasper and I strapped into carseats in the back seat. “We found the photo in the glove box, so I put it in there to keep it safe,” Jacob tells me. “That’s your mom right? She looks like you.”

“Yes,” I touch the photo. Jasper and I must be about two, I’ve got my hair in bunches on top of my head and he’s clutching his teddy bear, so it was taken years before my mother got sick. She’s smiling at the camera, and her hair is longer than mine is now. “Thank you. I’d forgotten it was in there- my mom used to keep it there.”

“Hey, that’s cool. I’m just glad you like what we’ve done,” Jacob says.

“I do. I really, really do.” I slide into the driver’s seat and sit for a minute, enjoying the feel of it. For the first time since I’ve been in Forks I suddenly wish I had friends that I could drive to see in my gorgeous restored car. Friends who would love to jump in the car and go for a drive with me, music blaring, just for the sake of going somewhere and spending time together. But there’s only my brother and the Cullens, and Emmett won’t be home for another couple of hours. “Hey,” I say to Jacob suddenly. “Do you want a ride to the Clearwaters? Maybe I’ll go say hi to Leah.”

“Sounds good,” Jacob says. “Just let me grab my stuff.” He lopes off towards the house but is back within a minute, an unbuttoned plaid shirt thrown on and a ceramic casserole dish in his hand.

“Sue cooks a meal for me and Dad once a week,” Jacob tells me, sliding into the passenger seat. “She’s done it ever since my mom died. Didn’t even miss the week Harry died.”

“That’s really nice of her,” I say, turning on my car and listening with pleasure to the roar of the engine. “This sounds great.”

Jacob leans back against the seat, nodding with satisfaction. “I know. Thanks for bringing it out here for me…honestly, it was great working on it.” He directs me along a few streets and then down a rutted dirt track that comes to an end at the Clearwaters’ yard.

I’ve only just turned the car off when the front door opens and Seth comes bounding out, smiling widely. “Hey Jake, hi Rosalie! What do you think of your car?”

“It’s great,” I say, getting out and patting the hood. “You guys did a great job. Is Leah home?”

“Yeah, she’s in the living room…come on in,” Seth invites.

The front door opens directly into the living room, and I pause a little awkwardly in the doorway as Seth and Jacob go through the doorway at the end of the room into the kitchen I can see beyond. Leah is stretched out in front of a wood burning heater reading, and as he walks past Seth kicks her book out of her hands with his bare feet.

“You got company,” he tells her.

Leah curses at him and then looks up. I can see the brief flash of surprise on her face and I half wish I hadn’t come, but then she smiles and sits up. “Hey Rosalie! Did you come to get your car? Come in- sit down.”

The sofa is completely taken up by Boo Boo the dog, so I take a seat in an armchair, looking around. The house is tiny but exudes a kind of cosiness and warmth that immediately makes me feel at home. “You don’t think it’s a little strange that you’re sitting on the floor while your hellhound takes up the furniture?” I comment.

Leah snorts. “Hey, fireside is the prized spot. What’s going on with you these days? Last time I saw you was at the party and you were wrapped around a certain vampire…did he take his fangs out to do that? What happened with that?”

I blush. “Well, it was fun,” I say cagily, and when Leah laughs at me I laugh too and relax a little. “I really like him,” I admit. “It’s not as straightforward as that, but I do really like him.”

“What’s the problem?” Leah says. She sits up cross-legged in front of the fire and the dog moves like a furry mountain off the sofa to lie in front of her on his back, waiting for her to scratch his belly. “He obviously has the hots for you, so if you like him you should go for it.”

I shrug. “A few things…but what about you? You said at the party you’d tell me about Sam Uley.”

Leah makes a face. “I did, didn’t I? You really want to know?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I really do.”

“Sam and I were always best friends,” Leah tells me. “Our moms were friends, and there weren’t any other boys his age here in town so right from the time we were little we were always together. Once we went to school he started hanging out with some of the older boys and I was friends with the twins – Rachel and Rebecca, Jacob’s sisters – but on the weekends and vacations we’d always come back to each other. Probably freshmen year of high school it became more than friends.” She shrugs. “It was just one of those things- we liked the same things, we had the same sense of humour, we had the same kind of plans for the future, it was just so easy to be together.”

“So what happened?” I ask as she pauses.

Leah sighs. “It’s such a common story that it’s boring, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t rip your heart out when it’s you…Sam went to a party one night that I didn’t go to because I was sick, he got drunk and hooked up with someone else. My cousin Emily actually, just to give me that extra kick in the teeth. He told me all about it the next morning, he was completely guilt ridden, and I might have even forgiven him in time. But she got pregnant, and that was that. Sam’s not the type to abandon his own kid.”

“But he could still have been with you and…”

“No,” Leah shakes her head with finality. “Not Sam. This is going to sound ridiculous, given what he did, but he’s always had a really overblown sense of responsibility. He’s descended from chiefs, he has inherited the stories, he’s always known he was going to stay here in La Push and dedicate his life to keeping the Quileute tribe alive and strong. He’s already on the council. But he’s aware of the problems too- there are already too many fatherless babies and struggling single mothers in the tribe and Sam wouldn’t let that happen to his baby. So even if we could have worked it out between the two of us…well. He and Emily got married and she moved in with him into the little house behind the garage. Actually,” Leah looks briefly ashamed, “The day that I met you? Out on the beach? I’d just heard that Emily had had the baby and I was gutted…that’s why I was such a bitch to you.”

I wave my hand. “God, don’t worry about it…it’s forgotten. I don’t blame you a single bit.” I shake my head. “I’m really sorry. No wonder you’re such a bitch- I’d want to kill everyone involved.”

Leah snorts. “Believe me, I did! Well, I still do sometimes. It wasn’t just losing Sam, it was having all my future plans kind of thrown out the window…I’d planned everything out with Sam, around the two of us together and being here. And then we broke up and the idea of hanging around the res watching him and Emily play happy families just made me feel sick. At the same time, my loyalty to the tribe and the importance of being educated and working for them hasn’t changed. But my dad died, and there suddenly wasn’t enough money for college so I couldn’t leave anyway.”

“That’s really awful,” I say, frowning. “What did you want to do at college?”

“I was going to do education so I could come back here and teach,” Leah says. “I figure I’ve spent years babysitting and bullying Seth and his buddies…there’s nothing high school kids can throw at me that I haven’t seen before! And the tribal school is just so important, you probably don’t really understand that, but it is. It would have been good to be one of their grads, make it to college and then come back and work there.”

“It sounds like you had some pretty good plans then,” I say.

“Yeah, well.” Leah shrugs again. “I wanted to get a job and save up enough to go to college next year, but there aren’t any jobs. Although with Dad dead now apparently I’m eligible for some different financial aid, so maybe I can look into that. I want to go more than ever now, with Sam and Emily and the baby…I’m just hoping that after a four year degree I’ll feel differently about being around them. Don’t they always say it just takes time?”  


	32. Acknowledging the Elephant

“Time, huh?” I say sceptically. “That’s what they _say_ …”

“It gives me something to cling to!” Leah says in heartfelt tones, and then laughs a little. “It’s been hard because this is such a small community…everyone knows everything and they all feel sorry for me. At the same time all the tribal elders have always thought Sam was the golden one, so they’re thrilled that there’s little Sam Junior.” Leah scowls. “I hate people feeling sorry for me. A bit of sympathy is sometimes nice, but pity is something else…”

“I know what you mean,” I say quietly. “About people feeling sorry for you.”

“Why?” Leah looks at me curiously. “Who feels sorry for _you_? I mean, I’m sure life as a life sized Barbie with a convertible and daddy footing the bills is a hard road to hoe. You’re probably drowning in pity, goodness knows I’ve felt sorry for you from the moment I met you…”

I can’t help laughing at her. “Yeah, yeah, you’re hilarious…it used to be like that,” I concede. “I was a spoiled princess who pretty much believed the whole world envied me, but that just meant I had a long way to fall.”

“So what happened?”

I hesitate. Leah’s cool dark gaze is questioning, and as I consider telling her I’m surprised to realise that I feel comfortable here with her. I remember Kari telling me _that’s a mighty big elephant in the room, Rosalie_ and I wonder what will happen if I talk about it. Maybe I can try. “My ex-boyfriend happened,” I say slowly. “I don’t go around talking about this, but at the start of the summer he and some of his friends raped me and beat me up.”

“Holy shit,” Leah’s mouth drops open.

“It was really bad,” I tell her truthfully. “That’s why I came to live with the Cullens here in Forks- everyone in school found out about it and I couldn’t face the idea of going back knowing that everyone would know, and that would be all they were thinking about whenever they looked at me.”

“You had no reason to be ashamed though; it’s not as though you did anything wrong,” Leah points out. “I mean, I get not wanting the attention, but it seems like it must have been harder for you to leave your friends and your life after something like that.”

“Maybe if I’d had different friends,” I say honestly. “But after it happened my phone pretty much exploded with a million texts and emails and all anyone cared about was getting the grisly details. They were all speculating about what would happen to Royce, and someone actually said that they felt sorry for him because they’d heard guys got raped in prison…they said that to _me!_ Who was sitting in hospital with half my bones broken and ice packs shoved into my knickers!” I shake my head, still astounded at people’s insensitivity.

Leah stares at me in disbelief. “It sounds like you knew some real winners back in Rochester.”

“I suppose you could argue I have questionable taste in friends,” I sigh, adding with a giggle, “I mean god, look who I’m hanging out with now.”

Leah sticks her tongue out at me. “So you seriously had no friends to help you through that?”

“Just my brother.” I take several deep, calming breaths. _This is so hard to talk about!_ “He was really good…I had one friend, Vera, who really tried. She didn’t go to school so she was not part of the whole hysterical mob thing, and she emailed and texted a lot. But it was too hard to be around her…she had a baby, and when they beat me up I lost a pregnancy and…well, I won’t be able to have any other babies.”

“Hey Rose, I’m really sorry,” Leah’s voice is quieter than I’ve ever heard her. “That’s a really tough break…and this isn’t pity, it’s empathy. Because I probably can’t ever have kids either.”

I look at her. “Why not?”

“Just messed up insides. Fibroids and endo and all kinds of shit…I mean, there are always miracles, but that’s basically what it would take for me to get pregnant naturally. That’s why Sam leaving me for Emily and a baby…well. You can imagine.”

“Yeah, I can.” I curl some hair around my fingers. “It’s always at the back of my mind though,” I burst out. “Like with Emmett…I mean obviously he is _years_ away from thinking of things like having a family and, all things being normal, I would be too. But I know that it can’t ever happen, and what if it turns out one day that it matters to him? Or whatever guy I’m with?

“I guess you just deal with it when – or if – that comes up,” Leah says. “There are no guarantees for anyone really, and if he loves you enough you’ll work through it. There are other ways of having a family besides the ordinary biological.” She gives me a wry look though. “Not that I’m saying it doesn’t hurt knowing that you have that choice cut off from you right from the start.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I do feel like I’ve lost so many choices through this. The baby thing, and…well, it’s just that I’m so fucked up in the head now too. I don’t know what I’m going to do or what’s going to happen to me now.”

Leah nods thoughtfully. “What happened to your boyfriend and his pals?”

“They went to jail,” I tell her. “They did a deal with the DA so there wasn’t a trial.” I pause for a moment, adding a little hesitantly, “Actually, my dad has filed a civil case against Royce and wants me to go to court in December. He wants me to give a…a victim impact statement.” I squirm. “He doesn’t think jail time is enough, so he’s going after his wallet.”

“Don’t you want to do that?” Leah asks.

I shake my head and a moment later Leah, rubbing her hands thoughtfully through the dog’s fur, says decidedly, “I’d do it. I’d go after them for everything they’ve got.”

“Even if it meant you had to get up in front of people and tell them exactly what he did to you?”

Leah thinks for a moment, and the fact that she’s giving this serious consideration makes me give more weight to her answer. “Yeah, even then,” she says at last. “And not because of the money, but just to prove that they hadn’t beaten me.”

I look past Leah, into the dancing flames behind her. “Sometimes it feels like they have beaten me,” I say tiredly, and for once I don’t care what someone thinks of me as she hears me say it.

“You can’t let them,” Leah says with conviction. “You can’t let the assholes win. “

“It’s millions of dollars,” I say to her. “Royce’s family is loaded and he has a trust fund that he’s supposed to get when he turns twenty one. That’s what my dad thinks he owes me.”

Leah makes a comical face. “Of course it’s millions of dollars,” she says, shaking her head. “Who _are_ these people?” She looks at me speculatively. “You wouldn’t have to keep the money, if it made you uncomfortable. I mean, I would personally- I’d use it to adopt a million babies and buy a mansion for us all to live in and hire goons to harass the rapist asshole when he got out of prison – but you seem to have enough money of your own, so you could always donate it to a woman’s shelter or a rape crisis centre or something.”

I can’t help laughing a little, but my breathing is uneven and there are tears threatening. And I guess Leah really is a friend because she _notices_ , and jumps to her feet, saying teasingly, “Anyway, Boo Boo really wants to go for a ride in this car of yours, since while they were fixing it the boys hogged all the seats when they took it out…so come on Rosalie, on your feet. Boo Boo and I want a ride.”

So I take her for a drive, and I even let the hellhound sit up in the backseat and bark at the trees as they fly by. It’s fun, and when we get back to her house she makes us both toasted cheese sandwiches for lunch and we eat them and laugh at a few episodes of Toddler and Tiaras. It feels so nice and normal…like I’m once again just a girl and my heart feels light.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

The Jeep is parked in the garage when I return to the Cullens, so Emmett must be back from the SATs. I shout hello as I hurry though the kitchen and living room and then go upstairs in search of him.

He’s lying on his bed with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. It’s impossible to tell from his face what he’s feeling, and for a moment I just stand in the door before I say tentatively, “Hi…how did it go?”

Emmett gives a jaw breaking yawn, and then grins at me. “Hey, you’re back!”

He sits up and when he beckons me over I willingly go and sit on the bed beside him. “How did you go?”

“Okay I think,” Emmett answers, sounding faintly surprised. “It seemed easier than last time anyway. My essay was okay…although I pity whoever is going to have to read my handwriting to mark it!”

I laugh and squeeze his hand. “I’m glad you feel good about it…when will you know?”

“Couple of weeks,” Emmett shrugs, and then looks at me with his eyes sparkling. “Esme said she dropped you off at the res this morning and you got your car?”

“Yes!” The vague thoughts I’ve been having about pushing Emmett backwards onto the bed and kissing him until I can’t think anymore vanish as I jump to my feet. “It’s beautiful! Come and see!”

I lead the way outside, shouting for Jasper to come too as I jump down the outside stairs and point to my car with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

“Oh Rose, it looks brilliant!” Jasper enthuses. “I can’t believe what they’ve done with it.”

“This is sweet,” Emmett adds. “You going to take us for a ride?”

“Yes!” I laugh delightedly as Emmett and Jasper wrestle each other for the privilege of riding shotgun, and then I laugh harder when Carlisle and Esme come out and get in the backseat and Emmett is forced to crowd in beside them.

“Reliving your college days?” he asks Carlisle cheerfully, as I speed off down the driveway.

“I wish!” Carlisle says good-naturedly. “I certainly wouldn’t have had a big lump like you in the backseat with my date and I back in those days.” He slings an arm around Esme and kisses her cheek, and then I see him blanch as I take a corner just a wee bit fast. “Good god Rosalie, you even drive like your mother!”

I laugh gleefully. “But Jake made it so beautifully fast and powerful!”

“Yes, but I don’t want you coming into the ER after wrapping yourself around a tree, so take it easy please!” Carlisle commands, and I reluctantly slow just a little.

When we get back to the Cullens’ house I park the Camaro in the garage and everyone climbs out. Emmett grabs a baseball bat from the rack and takes a couple of swings. “Pitch me a few?” he asks Carlisle.

”Sure,” Carlisle says agreeably. “Grab some balls.”

The two of them head out to the yard, Jasper close on their heels. I sit in a little patch of sunlight on the edge of the porch, leaning against the railing and watching them. I’m glad I stayed to watch when I see Emmett at bat. He makes it look so effortless, swinging at Carlisle’s pitches like the bat is an extension of his own body and running around the yard with a grace that is nothing short of beautiful.

“Come play too,” Emmett invites me, stopping in front of me on one of his runs round the yard. He stands in between my legs and lays a hand on my knee as he looks up at me, dimples showing.

The way my body reacts to his closeness! I can’t resist smiling back and I take the hand he holds out and let him pull me off the porch and lead me over to the game. I’m not a bad player, I’ve played a lot with Jasper over the years and played softball in middle school, but I’m so busy eyeing off Emmett as he pitches to me that the first ball sails past without me even taking a swing.

“Good effort Rose,” Jasper mutters sarcastically from behind me as he hurls the ball back to Emmett. “You do remember how to play this game, right? It’s _baseball_ …you focus on the _ball_ , not on the guy throwing it to you.” 

I poke my tongue out at him and smirk. I don’t think he’s completely reconciled to my involvement with Emmett yet. But I grip the bat tighter and brace myself for Emmett’s next pitch, which I hit with a satisfying smack, a low fast grounder that gives me plenty of time to run.

“Whoo Rosalie, run!” Carlisle shouts, and I laugh and stretch my legs faster as Emmett chases the ball.

I throw myself into the game. Alice and Edward join in when they get home from the football game, and even Esme comes out and volunteers to be shortstop and umpire. There is so much laughter, and we play until the sun fades away and we can no longer see and I think that after the misery of last night, I don’t know when I had such a happy day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because apparently even all human Cullens have to play baseball!


	33. A Little More Time

It doesn’t last. The nightmares, always the same wretched nightmares, come again and my demons come out to play and I wake up the whole house with the screaming. The difference is that this time when I wake up I don’t get sad, I don’t get panicky and tearful…instead I get angry.

“Why?” I screech at Carlisle. “Why doesn’t it get better? You and Kari keep saying that it will get better, if I just _try_ and _talk_ about it I’ll get easier…why isn’t it getting better?”

“Rosalie,” Carlisle tries to sound calming. “It will get easier, it just takes time…”

“How much fucking time?” I yell, storming agitatedly around the room. “How much fucking talking? I talk to Kari, I talk to Emmett, I talked to _Leah…_ You want me to talk to you too?” I snarl at Alice and Edward who are both standing sleepily in the hallway with everyone else. “Maybe if I tell you two about how I was raped and beaten up by my ex-boyfriend and his pals I’ll stop waking up screaming every single goddamned night! You want to know about that?”

“Please Rose,” Jasper says tiredly. “Stop…this isn’t helping.”

“ _Nothing is helping!”_ I scream, and I know how ridiculous I’m being but that only makes me angrier. “I hate this!” I pound my fists against the wall and then throw myself onto my bed and glare at the concerned faces surrounding me, ending on Carlisle. “You keep saying it will get easier, but it’s like every time I have a good day or feel okay something happens and I’m right back here…angry and hurting and hating everything,” I growl at him accusingly.

Carlisle perches on the end of the bed and sighs. “It’s not a straightforward progression Rosalie. With something like PTSD there is no magic cure that will heal you, you are never going to wake up one day and be as you were before. There will be good days and there will be bad days…with time the balance tilts more towards good days and the bad times will get fewer and further between.”

“ _When_?” I ask, and now I’m not angry but grief stricken. “When? I can’t do this anymore, all these nightmares and being so jumpy and scared all the time, not when I’m so _tired…_ ” I blink fast to keep the tears at bay.

“I can’t give you a timeframe,” Carlisle says gently. “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t work that way. You just have to look at the progress you’ve made and know that you can keep on doing that.”

The progress I’ve made… I have to admit that there has been some. I’ve talked about what happened with Kari and Leah and Emmett, I’ve let Emmett see my scars and touch me, and I know that in whatever way I’m capable of with my trust issues and messed up heart I’m falling in love with him. It just doesn’t seem enough, and I struggle once again with my feelings of shame and failure for not coping with this. I bury my face in my pillow.

“You’re doing well Rosalie,” Carlisle says. “You really are…you’ve come a long way in just the short time you’ve been here in Forks with us. You just need to keep working with Kari, keeping finding your way and try to relax a little more and you’ll be fine. We all believe in you.”

I wish I had their faith. Heartsore I ask them to leave, and after tossing and turning restlessly in the dark and quiet house for over an hour I give up and get out of bed, slipping silently along the hallway and into Emmett’s room. We haven’t been doing this, partly in deference to the others and partly because we are trying not to get carried away, but tonight I’m sad and lonely and all I want is to be with someone who lets me feel normal.

Emmett’s asleep, but he half wakes as I slip under the quilt beside him, mumbling my name as he turns and wraps me in his arms. He’s only wearing a pair of boxer shorts and as I press myself against him I can feel the heat of his body and the smoothness of his skin and I suddenly want him desperately. Want him inside me, all over me…want him to make me feel whole and beautiful and desired, instead of broken.

“Emmett,” I say, kissing my way up his neck and across his jaw.

His mouth comes down on mine and he’s kissing me ardently in response. His thigh pushes in between mine, and as I curve my leg up over his hip so I can rub against him I feel one of his hands slide along my thigh and start kneading my ass. “Rosa…oh, baby,” he mumbles between kisses, and I drop my head back as I feel his lips moving down my throat. _Oh, this is so good…_ I move astride him as he rolls onto his back, half sitting up so that his hands and mouth are on my breasts as I rock my hips. He’s so hard, and the boxer shorts and my thin pyjama pants aren’t much barrier to feeling everything as I gasp and writhe and bend low to kiss him again. _Mmm, Emmett…oh, that’s good, do that again…_

“Baby, oh god, what are you doing to me,” Emmett murmurs, moving his hands from my breasts to my back, down to my hips and ass so he can hold me tight against his groin, his rock hard cock pressing in between my spread legs. “Fuck, you’re good…”

I grind against him, whimpering with the heat and pleasure that’s building so rapidly deep inside me. I want him, want this big hard body to cover mine and give me the bliss that might make me forget the emotional storm of the last time I had sex. “Emmett.” I’m talking to him in between frantic kisses, and I don’t even know if he can understand me. “I want you, I want you now, please…” My eyes are stinging with tears. I want to be with him, I want him to make me feel better.

Emmett groans as my fingernails rake across his chest and his hips push upwards, increasing the pressure between our most sensitive places. “Oh Christ, yes…mmm…” He’s kissing my shoulder, my neck, moving along my jaw as his hands tangle in my hair. “Yes baby, yes…I want you…ahh no Rosa girl.” Emmett’s lips have found the salty tracks of tears on my face and now his fingers are brushing across my damp cheeks. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not,” I say, even as the choked sob in my throat gives lie to the words. My hands are moving up his arms, along his biceps and clutching at his shoulders. “Don’t stop Emmett, don’t stop, ignore it, I want you…” I bend forward and kiss him again, but he’s wiping my tears and when his lips don’t respond to mine I jerk away from his touch with irritation. “Emmett!”

With a grunt Emmett sits up, his hands on my knees to keep me sitting across his thighs. “Rosa,” he says softly. “I’m not going to do this now. Not if you’re crying.”

My face burning with the rejection I snatch my hands free and scramble off him. “Well if you don’t want to, that’s fine. I’m sorry.”

“Rosalie!” Emmett grabs the back of my pyjama pants as I go to slide off the bed. “Wait!”

Not that I have any choice unless I want to take off my pants, which he’s holding on to like his life depends on it, but I stop and stand stiffly by the side of the bed, my arms crossed defensively.

“You think I _don’t want to?_ ” he says incredulously. “Are you crazy? Rosalie, there is nothing I want _more_ than to be naked with you and inside you and touching you and kissing you!”

“Really?” I say in a tiny voice, and Emmett laughs gently and kneels up on the bed to wrap his arms around me, resting his head on my shoulder.

“ _Yes!”_ he says fervently. “Sweet Jesus Rosalie, do you have any idea how much time I spend jacking off just _thinking_ about having sex with you? And god I’m going to hate myself for stopping this in the morning!”

I can’t help laughing, even as I squirm with embarrassment. But his honesty, his willingness to expose his vulnerabilities catches at my heart, and I let my arms creep around him again as my laughter turns to tears and I cry into his shoulder.

Emmett pulls me back on to the bed and this time it’s not sexy as I curl up against him and he hugs me, but the kisses are warm and soothing.

“I love you,” he says tenderly. “I really do, and I really, _really_ want to do that with you. But I don’t think my ego can take it if you’re crying at the same time,” he adds teasingly, before sobering up as he says, “I want to be with you, but not…not if you’re thinking about them at the same time.” He bites his knuckles anxiously. “Do you understand what I mean?”

I think I do. Tonight wasn’t about me deciding that I wanted to be with Emmett. It wasn’t me adding sex to the relationship because I feel ready to take that step with him. It’s simply that the demons in my mind are haunting me and I’m tired of fighting them. Emmett wants me, but he wants me to want him for him, not just because I want to forget about the past.

We’re lying face to face, and his eyes are dark in the dimness and I can barely see his dimples as he smiles at me. “Is this okay?” he asks uncertainly. “You understand?”

I nod. “You’re right,” I say in a low voice. “It would have been a mistake, tonight. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“I love you,” he says quietly. “I haven’t ever felt like this about a girl before. You’re special Rosalie, and all I really want is to make you happy.” He rolls on to his back with a mournful sigh that ends in a husky chuckle. “Of course, come morning I’ll think about the opportunity I threw away tonight and kick myself! You know, maybe I could have made you _very_ happy if I’d just gone ahead with taking your clothes off like I wanted to!”

I sit up and reach over for the tissues on his nightstand so I can wipe my face and blow my nose. It makes me think of something he said earlier, and I feel my cheeks get hot with embarrassment even as I start giggling.

“What?” Emmett asks, amused. “Crying one minute, laughing the next…I can’t keep up with you.”

“I was just wondering…do you really think of me? When you’re…”

“Do I think of you when I’m…?” For a moment he sounds confused, and then Emmett’s whole body nearly convulses as he rolls over and buries his face in the pillow with a bellow of laughter. “Christ! All my heartfelt declarations of love and all you pick up on is _that_! Well if you really want to know, _yes_ I think about you when I’m jerking off!” He pulls a second pillow over his head and I hear his muffled voice, “And now that I’ve totally embarrassed myself I’ll just hide here for a while.”

Giggling I wriggle down into the bed beside him and, as I poke my fingers into his ribs, I discover that Emmett is crazy ticklish. He yelps and nearly somersaults out of the bed trying to get away from me, before he lunges at me and wraps me in his arms.

“What are you doing? Isn’t it enough I’m sharing all my dirty little secrets…you’re going to tickle me to bring me to my knees?” But he’s laughing as he says it, and then he makes the funniest high pitched squeaking noise as my fingers reach his armpits and I can’t hold it together anymore and burst out laughing.

There’s a sudden loud thumping on the wall from the next bedroom. “Will you two _shut up?_ ” It’s Edward and he sounds furious. “ _Some_ of us would like to get _some_ sleep tonight!”

I muffle my laughter in Emmett’s chest, feeling him shake with his own amusement. “Cranky bastard,” he murmurs. “Still, we’d better be a bit quieter…please don’t tickle me anymore because I can’t take it!”

I kiss the hollow of his throat, glad he can’t see my face in the darkness as I whisper, “Well I don’t care…I’m glad you think of me.”

Emmett groans and tightens his grip on me. “As if I could help it! You know I love you, and you are so damn sexy!”

I trace the slope of his biceps and say tentatively, “How many people have you slept with?”

“You are getting all the secrets out of me tonight, aren’t you?” Emmett says, but his voice is light. “It’s easy to do when you sneak half naked into my bed, I guess! Okay…I’ve slept with two girls. Both at baseball camp- they were there playing softball. First time was kind of a disaster and I guess I sucked because she didn’t come back for another try! Second girl and I were together for a couple of weeks of camp before she threw me over for a pitcher.” Emmett chuckles ruefully.

I admit that I’m surprised. Emmett seems so charmed- good looking and likeable – that I had expected he would have had a string of conquests behind him. It occurs to me that I’m actually more experienced than he is; although it was only Royce (I will never count the men who forced me) I was sleeping with him regularly for the better part of a year. I wonder how that will play out when we do sleep together.

“I’m surprised that there wasn’t ever anyone at school,” I say. “Considering how wonderful you are and all…” I tickle his ribs and laugh as he squeaks.

“Maybe I’m just choosy,” Emmett says teasingly. “Maybe I was waiting for you? Or maybe no one ever wanted to…combo of all three? Oh, and because I really do want to have sex with you one day and you might want to know, Carlisle ran all his STI tests on me when I was having my physical before school and it was all negative.”

“Well, he ran the same tests on me and I’m good,” I say, adding a little shyly. “And you know I can’t get pregnant, so…” The casualness of Emmett’s conversation and the warm feeling of being cared for that it raises in me astonishes me. Royce had _never_ talked with me like this.

“Mmmmm,” Emmett kisses me again, and slides his hand down my back to curve around my ass and pull me closer to him. “That sounds good…not tonight, but one day soon. Whenever you’re ready baby, I’m there.” 


	34. Things That Matter

I walk slowly towards my next session with Kari, dreading what I’m going to have to talk about today. I would never have thought that words, that just talking, could be so painful. I’m early, and rather than go inside I sit dispiritedly on the porch, staring out at the rain.

“Are you coming in, Rosalie?”

I don’t hear Kari opening the door behind me, and I jump when she speaks. She smiles at me and holds the door open as I climb wearily to my feet. As I walk past she asks curiously, “What did you do to your head?”

Instinctively I touch my forehead. When I fell in the bathroom on Friday it left a lump on my forehead that is now turning from black to green. For a moment I wish I hand bangs and could have covered it up. “I passed out and hit my head. It’s nothing.”

Kari follows me into her consulting room. “Are you okay? What made you pass out?”

It’s like she has radar that hones in on anything that I might not want to talk about! “Nothing important,” I mutter.

Kari grins at me. “I have a pretty good idea by now when you’re not being open with me,” she informs me. “And something makes me think there’s more to this bump on the head than you really want to talk about.”

“My dad called me on Friday night,” I say sulkily. I don’t look at her as I start braiding a small section of my hair. “He’s still pursuing the civil case against Royce, and he wants me to go back to Rochester in December so I can be there and do a…a victim impact statement.”

Kari doesn’t say anything for a moment. I continue braiding, focussing fiercely on my hair so I don’t have to think about anything else. It’s only when I’ve come to the end of the long strands of hair that Kari asks, “What do you think about that?”

I begin unravelling the braid, separating the three sections of hair and then combing it with my fingers into a smooth length of silk. I don’t say anything.

“Rosalie,” Kari’s voice is quiet, but insistent. “You need to talk to me about this. You’ve been a lot more open recently…what is it about this particular incident that’s making you shut down?”

 I curl my feet up onto the chair I’m sitting on and rest my chin on my knees. “It’s too hard.” My voice is so quiet I don’t even know if she’ll hear me.

“What’s too hard? Talking about it?”

“Yes. Talking about it…thinking about it. Everything. I had a panic attack after Dad called and that’s why I passed out and hit my head.” Once again I start weaving my hair into a braid. “I hate the idea of this civil case…I mean, who _does_ that? Who thinks _money_ is going to make up for anything?”

“For some people it helps,” Kari says carefully. “Compensation can cover medical bills, can make up for lost income when a person has needed time off work. Compensation for loss of fertility can cover costs associated with alternative methods of having a family, like adoption.”

I think I’m going to be sick. “So it’s okay that they killed my baby as long as I get enough money to buy another one?”

“No one is saying that,” Kari says.

“That’s what it feels like though,” I say through clenched teeth. “This feels like putting a price on her life. It feels like putting a price on _my_ life, on my body…on everything that I could have been and now will never be. It feels like saying that money makes it okay that they did all that to me, that it’s okay that they raped me and beat me and killed my baby because here’s a cheque and now we’re all square…and that’s _not fucking true._ There is nothing, _ever_ , that can make this okay!”

I wrap my arms over my head, tangling my hands in my hair and pushing my face down into my knees so there’s no chance the tears can escape. I’m starting to hate this room and the way I am in here, the way I’m always crying and blabbing out secrets, my heart writhing under the pain of such honesty.

“Rosalie, nothing is going to make up for what happened to you. You’re right that it’s not possible to put a price on what you lost,” Kari’s voice is muffled by my arms. “But a trial might also offer you an opportunity to take control of the situation in a way that you weren’t able to do at any other time.”

“ _Take control?”_ I fling my head back and stare at her. “Are you kidding? The very _thought_ of going to trial freaks me out so much that I pass out when my dad tells me about it, and you think it’s a nice opportunity for me to _take control?!”_

Kari smiles compassionately. “Look, I’m not saying that it’s the answer for you. But I will say that I’ve worked with other women who have gone to trial or submitted victim impact statements during sentencing and many of them found it empowering. It’s a way for people to have their voices heard…something the system isn’t always very good at in these situations.”

My eyes are stinging, because she’s made me think of what mattered the most to me and what had been, in the eyes of the law, the least important. “The lawyer said that there wasn’t anything they could be charged with for the baby. That she was too little, that she didn’t _count_ …” I choke on the sobs I’m trying to hold back. “She mattered to me.”

“I know she did.” Kari isn’t taking notes now. “And you can talk about her in a victim impact statement. There are some guidelines, but you’re not restricted by the same rules of evidence as in a trial. You can talk about the baby, about how the assault has changed your life, about the physical and emotional impact that the attack had on you.”

“How?” I ask, wiping away tears. “How do I get up there in front of people and _say_ those things? I didn’t even talk about my baby when I was pregnant…how can I get up there and talk about her now that she’s gone?”

I don’t know how to explain those months of knowing I was pregnant but saying nothing, of hugging that sweet, precious secret close to me while my dreams were full of babies instead of brutality.

“I have some samples and questions to get you started, and we can work on it together if you want to,” Kari tells me. She taps her pen for a moment. “Did you ever see your baby?” she asks quietly.

“No.” My voice is barely audible.

“Were you given the opportunity? Second trimester miscarriages are handled differently in different places…but at sixteen weeks you might have been…”

I shake my head. “She came out in the ambulance when I was unconscious. They told me it was a girl and they must have kept her somewhere because later they did DNA testing when Royce said that she wasn’t his.” I wind a long piece of hair through my fingers. “I hate the thought that she was just…just medical waste,” I whisper. “I know that it was still early, that she was so tiny and no one knew and no one cared about her… _but I knew about her_. I knew for three whole months that she was there. I went through feeling so scared and thinking I couldn’t do it and looking at having an abortion…but in the end I wanted her. I wanted to be her mother. I spent three months planning my life around a baby, working out what I was going to do with her and school and college and everything. I gave her a _name_ …I loved my baby, and they took her away.”

And I’m crying – _again_ – as I remember waking up after surgery, deep in a fog of pain and morphine, and Jasper telling me that the baby was gone. When the tears slow Kari hands me a trash basket and I dump in the approximately half a box of tissues I’ve used up in trying to stem my flood of misery.

“God, how many boxes of tissues do you go through a week?” I sniffle.

Kari grins. “A lot sometimes.” She looks at me speculatively. “You know Rosalie, I just wanted to say that I believe you’re really doing well here with me. Better than you think you are! I know you don’t love all the crying, but I think for you it’s a big part of acknowledging your emotions and working through them. Most importantly you’re _talking…_ that’s really good.”

“It doesn’t feel good,” I say in a low voice. “I keep thinking that it seems like a hell of a lot of pain for no real improvements…I’m still having nightmares and I’m still having panic attacks. You and Carlisle keep going on about needing time…but it seems like it’s too hard and it’s too much time.”

“It _is_ hard,” Kari acknowledges. “You’re working on a lot of complex issues- your feelings about your assault and recovery, your baby, the abusive relationship that led up to the attack…all of that is a lot to deal with, as well as the way it plays into your current relationships with the people in your life and your plans for approaching the future. None of that is easy, but you’re getting there.” She pauses. “How are things with Emmett? Anything you want to talk about there?”

“I tried to have sex with him and he turned me down,” I say drolly, which makes Kari lose her professional composure for a minute as she chokes back a laugh.

“Sorry, I’m just surprised,” she admits. “He’s nineteen and we’ve already established that he is _clearly_ attracted to you. I wouldn’t have expected…but are you okay with this?”

I giggle. Something about Kari’s surprise has made her seem more human. “I’m okay with it. It wouldn’t have been a good idea…I mean, I wasn’t really there with Emmett then,” I say slowly. “I went to him that night because I wanted to feel desirable and whole and normal…and honestly, any guy would have done. But I guess Emmett isn’t just any guy.”

“Do you think the two of you are getting to that point?”

“He wants to,” I say, playing with my hair to hide my embarrassment. “ _I_ want to! I’m nearly eighteen and I’m not a virgin, I just want to have sex with my boyfriend like a normal person! But I guess he’s kind of uncertain about it, after…well, after what my last time was like.”

“He might be feeling under a bit of pressure,” Kari says thoughtfully. “He sounds like he’s very considerate of you, and he’s obviously aware that you can be a little fragile at times. What about you? Are you concerned or anxious about anything in particular?”

I shrug. “I’m kind of scared that it will hurt,” I mumble. “I had a lot of stitches…an ob-gyn did all that and he told me that it should be fine, that he stitches up women after childbirth all the time and they all go on to have more sex and more babies and so will I blah blah blah…which I’m sure is true, apart from the baby thing. But it is kind of hard to believe when I think about the fact that I couldn’t even sit down without feeling it for like a month.” I stop and think for a minute, adding thoughtfully. “But I’m not scared of Emmett. Not at all…I trust him.” The simple words seem almost inadequate to describe the amount of trust I have in Emmett. He has already seen me bare and naked and vulnerable and proven, again and again, that his kindness and love is real.

“I’m sure when you do go there it will be fine,” Kari says. “Take it slow, make sure you’re really ready…if you do have any concerns about how everything healed and sex you can always go and talk to your doctor.”

I snort. “My doctor happens to be Emmett’s _dad_ , remember? I’m sure asking him about my girly parts because I want to bone his son wouldn’t be awkward at all!” I laugh a little shakily. “And yes, I know, I can get another doctor…and I will if I need to. For now it’s all okay.”

Kari nods and scribbles a few more notes. “That’s good. I think it’s important that you have control over your own body and medical care, and it seems like you’re confident with that. Now we’re just about out of time- do you think you will give some consideration to the victim impact statement? Despite what your father said you don’t have to be the one to present it, either- victim statements can be read by an advocate or written and submitted to the judge and lawyers.” She looks at me keenly. “It might be too soon and you need more time before you’re ready for something like that, but I would like you to think about it.”

“Okay,” I sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” Kari starts shuffling her papers. “That’s what I want you to do for next week, and we’ll talk more about it then. Thanks for today Rosalie, as I said I’m impressed with how much effort you’re putting in.”

I rise to my feet and shrug into my jacket, slinging my tote over my shoulder and finding my umbrella in preparation to leave. Kari follows me to the front door where she greets a middle aged woman who is shaking out her umbrella before ringing the bell. She goes into the house and Kari gives me a grin before she starts closing the door, but at the last moment I put my hand out to stop her.

“What is it Rosalie?”

“I know it probably doesn’t matter,” I say fast. “But it’s just…my baby’s name was Lily. I just wanted you to know.” And without waiting for a response I turn and jump down the steps, dashing across the wet pavement to where the others are waiting for me in the Volvo.


	35. Happy Birthday

“Wake up lazy, it’s your birthday!”

Rolling over in bed I groan as I open my eyes and see Jasper and Alice sitting side by side on the end of the bed and grinning at me.

“If it’s my birthday, shouldn’t it mean I get to sleep in?” I say plaintively.

“You already did!” Alice exclaims. “It’s nearly eleven now, and you have to get up because Emmett wants to take you out for lunch.”

“Oh, really?” I sit up, pushing my hair out of my face. “He didn’t say anything.”

“No, he wanted it to be a surprise but since it appears that you were just going to sleep through until the afternoon I thought I’d come in and wake you up,” Alice informs me cheerfully.

“Happy birthday Rosie Posie,” Jasper says teasingly, and for a brief moment he leans forward and hugs me. It’s probably the first time he’s had his arms around me since it happened, and for once I don’t jerk away. Instead I momentarily lay my head on his shoulder and my arm across his back, and when I pull away I see his eyes are shining with unshed tears.

“Happy birthday Jas,” I whisper.

He clasps my hand. “Can you believe we’re finally eighteen? It’s going to be a good year,” he says, and it’s half a promise and half a prayer. “I know it will be Rosalie.”

“Better than last year,” I say with a laugh that’s only a little bit brittle. Before Jasper can say anything I reach across to my nightstand and pull a small package out from the top drawer. “Here you go, brother dear. Happy birthday.”

For as long as I can remember Jasper and I have always traded gifts first thing in the morning, following our own rule that the gift has to be small and fun and cost $5 or less.

Jasper tears off the paper and holds up the Spiderman key ring bottle opener I bought him with a grin. “It’s great Rosalie, I’ll treasure it.”

“It’s for Columbia next year,” I say, adding with mock severity, “ _Not_ that you’ll be drinking alcohol underage of course!”

Jasper snorts and hands me over mine. I laugh as the paper tears away to reveal another key ring, this time with a small brass compass dangling from it. “Because apparently you lack direction in your life,” Jasper says sarcastically. “At least that’s what dad was saying to me the other week when I told him you hadn’t applied to any colleges yet…I’m supposed to help you ‘find your way’.” His tone is completely derisive, but his eyes on me are kind. “So I bought you a compass, so that you’ll never get lost.”

Another day my dad’s eternal disapproval of me might sting, but today is my birthday and sitting here on my bed with my brother I’m happy. I give him an impulsive hug, and then my smile widens as Emmett comes bounding through the open door and crashes onto the bed with the three of us.

“Hey, you’re awake! Happy birthday!” I can tell he wants to dive on me and start kissing, but he glances at Jasper and Alice and prudently restrains himself.

“Thank you,” I smile at him, showing him my new key ring looped over my thumb. “Look, Jasper gave me a present. It’s so I won’t get lost.”

“You’ll get your presents from the rest of us at dinner time,” Alice says, a little anxiously. “Is that okay? Jasper told me you two always exchange gifts in the morning, but we do it at dinner and Mom is making your favourite foods…”

“Alice, it’s fine,” I say. “We’ll do it your way…it’ll be really nice to have dinner and a cake like we did for Emmett! It’s just these little gifts that Jas and I do in the morning. Mostly it hasn’t been that big of a deal the last few years.” I glance at my brother wryly. “Remember the year that dad sent us gifts by courier from the office so he didn’t have to come home?”

Jasper rolls his eyes. “Yeah I do…really felt the love that year.”

Emmett and Alice look horrified by this, but Jasper and I glance at each other with a humorous understanding. Dad might be generally absent and completely clueless, but we’ve always had each other and somehow that’s made so many things okay.

“I hear you’re taking me out to lunch,” I say to Emmett, raising my eyebrows at him questioningly.

He scowls at Alice. “It was _supposed_ to be a surprise.”

“I’m surprised,” I say hastily. “Truly, shocked and stunned…what do I wear?” I look doubtfully at Emmett’s outfit, which consists of his ratty old sweat pants with holes in the knees, a t-shirt that seems to have half his breakfast spilled down the front and the pink and green striped socks Alice gave him for his birthday. “You’re not taking me to the McDonalds drive-thru or something?”

Emmett laughs and this time he does kiss me. “No!” he says indignantly. “I was just on my way to take a shower and get dressed! I’m taking you somewhere nice, so you can wear…I don’t know.” He looks a little helplessly at Alice, and then leans over and whispers something in her ear.

“Ohhh,” she says, looking at him with some respect. “ _Very_ nice choice. Rosalie, I’ll help you pick out an outfit.” She skips happily into my closet as I shrug. If she wants to make me play clothes horse I have no real objection- I like what’s in my closet so she can’t go too far off the mark, and she really does have an eye for styling.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Emmett says cheerfully. “I’m going to go and have a shower and we can go as soon as you’re ready Rosa, okay?”

I nod and watch him leave the room then turn back to Jasper, who is also gazing after Emmett with a faint frown. “Jas,” I say quietly. “You don’t have to worry about him, or me when I’m with him. Emmett will never do anything consciously to hurt me. Truly, he is a good person…a better person than me, really!”

Jasper gives me a lopsided smile. “Yeah, but you’re _my_ person,” he says gruffly. “Nine months in the womb and eighteen years outside it…we’ve been looking out for each other for a long time.”

I don’t say anything else, but I squeeze his hand and think how lucky I am that, along with all the shit in my life, the universe gave me my brother.

Alice comes out of the closet then with her arms full of clothes and Jasper beats a hasty retreat. I jump out of bed and become absorbed in choosing an outfit and accessories and doing something with my hair.

Alice chooses a dark blue halter neck dress that skims over my body and stops mid-thigh and pairs it with black lace stockings and high heels. She braids the front of my hair and leaves the rest of it loose down my back and after considering the effect for a moment she runs into her room and comes with back a silver and opal choker that I would have dismissed as too gothic, but that looks perfect with the outfit and the matching earrings. I can’t help twirling in front of the mirror once she’s done and watching my reflection in satisfaction, because I look fantastic. I admit that I usually take the way I look for granted but there are days like today when, although I’d never say so, I’m fervently glad that I’m pretty. I love dressing up and knowing that Emmett is going to think I look beautiful.

He does, too. I can tell by the almost imperceptible catch in his breath and the slow and soft way he smiles at me that he likes what he sees when I glide into the living room where he’s waiting for me. He’s wearing trousers and a shirt and even a _tie,_ and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look as handsome as he does when he drops the newspaper and stands up, holding out his hand to me. _Oh, my heart._

“Ready?” He leads me out into the garage and guides me towards the Audi. “Esme said we could borrow her car, as long as we’re back for dinner.” He opens the door for me, but before I can slide into the passenger seat he wraps his arms around me and hugs me, looking down at me with his dimples showing before he places a brief kiss on my lips. “You look beautiful Rosalie. Happy birthday.”

 Emmett drives us to Port Angeles, parking out the front of a beautiful restored old building that turns out to be a boutique hotel with a very elegant restaurant on the ground floor. He laces his fingers through mine and holds my hand as he gives his name to the maître-d and we’re led to a table for two by the window, overlooking a small flower garden.

“This is beautiful,” I say sincerely.

“Well, it’s not the Forks diner,” Emmett says cheerfully. “But I wanted to take you somewhere special for your birthday.”

“I love it,” I declare. “Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you in pyjamas and eating peanut butter ice cream on the sofa at home, but it’s nice to dress up.” My eyes are sparkling as I smile at him across the table, and when the waiter comes over to take our order I know Emmett isn’t the only person in the room appreciating the way I look.

The menu is written in the pretentious way that high end restaurants always use to describe their food, but it tastes good and the dessert, a decadent chocolate creation, is sublime. I talk and laugh and flirt with Emmett, although as I finish off the last of my dessert I can’t help notice that he’s looking a little edgy.

“What is it?” I ask.

The look Emmett gives me is half amused and half guilty. “I got a room,” he says in a rush. “I paid online with a credit card. I didn’t know Esme wanted us home for dinner then…but we’d still have a couple of hours now. Look, I swear to god I’m not doing this to pressure you and we absolutely _do not have to do anything_ …I mean, we can leave right now and go to the movies or whatever. We can go upstairs and hang out watching pay-per-view and I won’t touch you if you don’t want, but the room has a spa and a mini bar and…”

“Yes,” I say, cutting him off. I can already feel the increase in my heart rate and the slight warmth between my legs. Emmett and I, in a hotel room with no one else around… “I think that would be…good.”

Emmett takes a deep breath. “Right. Okay.” He gets to his feet and comes around to take my chair. He’s standing too close, and for a moment I lean against him, feeling the length of his body against mine. It occurs to me that in only a few minutes I will be able to lean against him like this without the layers of clothes between us and my face burns.

I take a moment in the lobby bathroom, and then join Emmett at the check in desk just as the lady asks about taking up our baggage. “No, we’re fine,” Emmett says casually, and I have to hide my grin at the sideways glance from the receptionist.

“You know she thinks I’m a prostitute,” I tell Emmett as soon as the elevator doors close behind us.

Emmett looks horrified. “What the…shit! I’m sorry!” He looks at me, a little crestfallen. “I just wanted to take you some place nice. Some place that doesn’t have my brother banging on the wall and shouting on one side of us, and your brother quietly seething and plotting how to cut my balls off on the other side!”

I run my hand along his back. “And I do appreciate it. But Jasper’s not really doing that you know…he’s not like that.”

“Oh, all brothers are like that,” Emmett tells me emphatically. “They might say they’re not, they might pretend they’re not, but none of them are going to be that thrilled about some guy boning their sister. Especially not in the next bedroom.”

“So that’s what you’re like with Alice then?” I tease.

“Absolutely. If she ever gets into Jasper’s pants like she wants to…” Emmett shudders and then looks at me imploringly. “Can we not talk about this? Really…I brought us here to get _away_ from the whole sibling thing! Let’s talk about you being a prostitute…that’s much more interesting. What are your specialities?”

I burst out laughing. “As if you could afford me!”

Now Emmett’s laughing too, and he slides his hand along my thigh and up under my dress until he brushes it light across my ass. “Certainly not after paying for lunch and this room,” he admits cheerfully. “I’m skint- don’t expect anything good for Christmas, I’m warning you now.” He smooths my hair back and lightly touches his lips to my ear, making me shiver. “I think I prefer the idea that you’re here with me just because you’re overcome by my wit and charm and good looks anyway.”

I stand on tiptoe and give him a light, teasing kiss. “I think that’s probably a pretty good explanation. Wit and charm, the size of your wallet…whatever the reason, I’m here with you and I don’t want to be anywhere else.”


	36. A Wish

The room is small and cosy, and I prowl about for a moment, looking at everything and gathering my thoughts before I turn to face Emmett, who has kicked off his shoes and is sitting on the side of the bed. The tenderness in his eyes as he watches me touches my heart, and despite the awkwardness of the two of us suddenly here and alone and with only one thing really on our minds, I smile at him.

“You’re sure, right?” Emmett says anxiously. “Because like I said, I’m good either way and I don’t want to do anything that’s not going to be good for you, or that’s going to make you feel bad. We’ve got lots of time and…”

 _He’s nervous_ , I realise, as he keeps babbling. _He is so anxious that this not turn into a disaster…_ Somehow Emmett’s uncertainty gives me a sense of confidence, and I do the easiest thing I can think of to get him to stop rambling and touch me. Reaching behind me I unzip my dress and undo the bow on the halter and step out of it.

I’m wearing black lace underwear to match the black lace stockings, and maybe that’s a cliché but I don’t care. It makes anyone looks good, and the dark skimpy panties and strapless bra against my creamy pale skin is striking. Judging by the look on Emmett’s face, he’s not about to start complaining over any lack of originality either.

I bend down to undo my shoes, hiding my smile in my hair as I hear Emmett make a noise of pure want, and then walk over to him slowly in my stocking feet, coming to a stop in between his spread knees.

Emmett reaches out and rests his hands on my thighs, on the little bit of skin between my stocking tops and knickers, circling his thumbs and then leaning forward to kiss my belly button. “You’re beautiful,” he tells me, shyly.

I take a step closer and begin loosening his tie. “You look good dressed up,” I say lightly, as I slide the tie from his neck and toss it aside. “Very, very good.” I begin on the buttons of his shirt.

“I’ll wear ties every day,” Emmett says, a note of laughter in his tone. “If you promise to take them off me like this… _ohhh._ ”

I’m kneeling down in front of him, and I kiss his belly as I slide the shirt off his shoulders and start to work on his belt buckle and trousers. Emmett leans back on his hands, passively allowing me to strip off his clothes, and his breathing rate quickens slightly as he watches me. And watch is _all_ he does. It’s not until Emmett _doesn’t_ do it that I realise I’m half braced for him to hold my hair and push me towards his groin until I open my mouth, and just because he hasn’t assumed anything my heart lightens.

I run my hands along his thighs and upwards as I stand, across his belly and chest until I twine my arms around his neck. His skin is hot and I can feel his heart beating and he smells of soap and deodorant and clean male skin. _I want you._

Emmett sits up and slowly reaches behind me, fumbling with the catch on my bra until he unhooks it and drops it onto the floor. He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his face in between my breasts for a moment before he pulls back and kisses my scar and then looks up at me. His face is so open and honest, with such love in his clear blue eyes that I impulsively stoop down to kiss him.

“I love you,” I say softly.

“Oh Rosa girl!” Emmett falls backwards onto the bed and I fall with him, giggling as he grabs me and rolls me over until we’re stretched out across the middle of the bed. He runs his hands along my flanks and then kisses me with a happy little growl. “I love you too, beautiful girl.”

We don’t need to talk after that, not in words. There’s a lot that can be said with hands and bodies and eyes, with sighs and murmurs and low groans and kisses, and Emmett and I say it all. There’s no rush here. It’s just the two of us, in our own little world of naked skin and hot kisses and hands that touch only to bring pleasure.

I lose track of time, and I don’t know how long it’s been when I find myself with my legs wrapped around Emmett and my body aching to finally take him. “Oh, now Emmett, now…” I breathe, arching my back to push up against him. “God yes, now…”

Braced above me, biceps bulging and his chest slick with sweat, Emmett suddenly looks almost panicked. “Oh god, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” All my nerves are gone, and all I can think about is how much I want him. I reach down between us and take his cock in my hands, which makes him groan, and guide him into the right position. “I want you, I want… _ohhh god.”_

Damn but he feels so good! Everything between us is so wet and slippery that even though I suddenly tense in a momentary anticipation of pain, Emmett enters me easily. And it doesn’t hurt, just a very good kind of stretch and fullness that makes me close my eyes briefly and contract all my muscles around him just to feel it more intensely.

I love the noise Emmett makes when he first feels himself deep inside me, that vocal exhalation of breath that is nothing but pure carnal pleasure. I love the way he kisses me and starts moving slowly, his eyes fixed on my face to see how I like it before he lets himself go a little. I love that when it’s awkward, like when he goes to kiss me and we bump heads and when he pulls right out by mistake and hurts himself thrusting into my pubic bone, he just laughs and kisses and we start again. Most of all I love that when he comes he wraps me in his arms and doesn’t let me go, kissing and touching me until I’m falling apart at his hands, because he’s not done until I am.

Not that either of us want to be done. There is so much to learn about each other and this primal way of being together, and I know that in this one afternoon we have only just begun. I am fascinated by Emmett’s body and what I can do to it, and there’s not a single inch of me that he doesn’t want to touch or taste or look at. I am so glad he thought to come here, where we have the time and privacy it takes to make this special.

Emmett has promised Esme we’ll be back for dinner though, so eventually we have to untangle ourselves and get ready to return home. I wash quickly and dress, trying to comb out my hair while Emmett whistles in the shower and then crawls around finding all his clothes and getting dressed. I can’t replicate Alice’s braid and all my make-up is long gone, but I don’t look too unkempt. I don’t _think_ anyone will look at me and immediately know what I’ve spent the afternoon doing. Although when Emmett and I walk into the kitchen at home and Alice smirks at me over the cake she’s icing I can’t stop the blush that heats up my face- there’s no hiding anything from _her_.

“How was lunch?” Carlisle asks.  

“Great,” I say, doing my best to ignore Alice as she starts giggling.

“Good food,” Emmett adds as he goes to the refrigerator and drinks milk straight from the carton. “I’m hungry now though…how long til dinner?”

“Just going on the table now,” Esme says, taking the milk away from him and pushing him towards the platters on the counter. “So if you could take in the vegetables I’d appreciate it.”

When I go into the dining room Alice nudges me towards the head of the table. “You have to sit there, because you’re the birthday girl,” she tells me gaily, lifting up a gaudy plastic tiara that spells out ‘birthday girl’ in pink beads and placing it carefully on my hair.

I can’t help laughing, even though I feel ridiculous. “What about Jasper?”

“Well, you do make things difficult being twins,” Alice sighs in mock sadness. “But he’s sitting down the other end of the table and has a crown, so that’s okay.”

It’s just like it was at Emmett’s birthday, although Jasper and I are at either ends of the big table. I’m touched and a little overwhelmed by the fuss, by the funny tiara and Jasper’s paper crown, the flowers on the table and the ‘happy birthday’ banner strung up over the doorway, and the beautifully wrapped packages that are thrust my way before the food comes.

Edward gives us both books, and although he might not like me much he’s a thoughtful gift giver because he’s actually wangled an advance reader copy from one of my favourite authors. Alice gives Jasper a new shirt and gives me a chunky bead bracelet, and then Emmett tosses an envelope with an itunes gift card to Jasper, and gives me a small box to me that I open to see a beautiful pair of delicate silver butterfly earrings.

Beside me Alice looks from the earrings to Emmett, quite affronted. “They’re beautiful,” she says to him almost accusingly. “Since when do _you_ ever choose such nice gifts?”

Emmett snorts. “Since Rosalie stuck a post-it note on my laptop with a link to her amazon wish list and a countdown to her birthday on it!” he says, to my embarrassment and the general amusement of everyone else at the table.

Carlisle and Esme’s gifts are expensive and extravagant, a beautiful leather jacket for Jasper and a gorgeous pair of boots for me, and we both thank them effusively. But it’s the second gift that Esme hands over to me that makes me laugh and then brings tears to my eyes. She’s framed three photographs together, a series that shows Jasper and I at our first birthday party. In the first photograph we’re sitting side by side in highchairs, each of us staring entranced at the cake with a single candle that we have on the trays in front of us. The second photograph shows both of us covered in cake as we take fistfuls of it and stuff it in our mouths. The third photograph shows me leaning across to Jasper’s tray, my hand splayed out across his face as I shove him backwards and help myself to his cake too.

“Where did you get these?!” I exclaim, passing the frame along the table so the others can see.

“I took them!” Carlisle laughs. “Esme and I were there at your first birthday…don’t forget, we knew your parents before you were ever born.”

Jasper is laughing. “Even then you were the boss,” he teases me.

“You two were so cute!” Alice says. “And it’s so weird to think that Mom and Dad knew you both years before they knew any of us!”

Esme looks thoughtful. “It’s true. Carlisle and I were living in New York then, but Emmett would have been over two years old down in Tennessee. Your mother would have been pregnant with you, Edward.”

“Did you know you wanted to adopt children then?” I ask a little hesitantly as Esme and Carlisle begin serving up the food.

“No, not at all,” Esme says cheerfully. “We thought we’d have our own biological children then…actually, wait a moment.” She disappears into the study for a moment and comes back a moment later with another photograph which she passes to me. “I found this one when I was looking for your first birthday pictures.”

I can’t help laughing. It’s Carlisle, with much longer hair and a small moustache, holding a screaming baby in each arm and looking shell shocked. “Is that Jasper and I too?”

“Yes,” Esme looks amused. “You were only a few months old, and giving your mother rather a difficult time of it as I recall! Look on the back.”

_Dearest Essie…doesn’t he look comfortable as a dad?!?! Your turn next and I hope it’s quadruplets!!!! Lily xoxoxox_

“My mom wrote that?” Even if it didn’t have her name on it, I would have recognised the handwriting from the few cards and letters I have from my mom.

Esme smiles at me. “Yes. Lily and I were good friends, and she knew we were hoping for a family. Of course in the end nothing happened, and we were looking into adoption when Elizabeth, Edward’s mother, got sick. She was a doctor and worked with Carlisle you know, and had no family…when she knew she was dying she asked us if we would consider adopting Edward after she passed.” Esme looks at her first son tenderly. “Of course we said yes, and then two years later we were just beginning to talk about adopting again to expand the family…”

“And you picked out _me_!” Alice breaks in with a grin, adding almost as an afterthought, “And Emmett.”

Carlisle shakes his head, but it’s clear as he looks at Alice how much he adores her. “Something like that,” he says. “We thought three was just right, but now we seem to have borrowed two more…and I like it even better.”

Carlisle grins at Jasper and then me, but for a moment I can’t smile back for the emotion that threatens to spill over. This family, _all_ of them…how have I been so lucky as to find such a soft place to fall? I came here so broken and damaged, and I’ve shouted and sworn at them and smashed their mirrors and caused trouble at school and no one gets a full night’s sleep when I start in with the screaming…but still Carlisle makes me believe he is genuinely glad that we’re here.

We eat Esme’s delicious dinner and then there’s cake and everyone sings, Jasper joining me at the head of the table. At first he teases me, pushing me out of the way in imitation of me in the baby photo and pretends to blow all the candles out by himself. But then he wraps an arm around me, holding my hair back, and we bend forward, our heads together as we blow out the candles.

As the flames flicker out and the room plunges into darkness I realise I’ve wished, not for the attack not to have happened as I have on every falling star since the summer, but for strength - strength to move on and take my life back, because there are some things that can’t be changed. And when the lights shine on again and I look around at the happy, affectionate faces around me, all of them near strangers six months ago and now more family than anything else, I think that maybe it’s the kids of wish that might come true.


	37. A Fathomless Place

“Excuse me, just heading to the laundry!”

I look up vaguely. Emmett and I are downstairs in the rec room, using one of the nautilus machines in a way that was never its intended purpose, and someone has just come down and interrupted us. Esme, trailed by Jasper, and both of them carrying baskets of bed linens. I make some kind of embarrassed apology as I hastily slide off Emmett’s lap and sit awkwardly on the nearby weight bench, wrinkling my nose up at Jasper as he rolls his eyes and makes a disgusted face at me.

Living with Emmett is a kind of delicious torture. I want him all the time and he is so often _right there_ , but between school and homework and wrestling and the five other people that live in the house and have made it clear they dislike being subjected to physical displays of affection, I am sometimes frustratingly constrained.

Jasper slouches back across the rec room, ignoring us as he heads upstairs.

“I told you brothers never like it,” Emmett tells me.

I roll my eyes. “Do you need any help?” I call out to Esme, but a moment later she comes out of the laundry empty handed.

“No thanks Rosalie, I just put in some of the linens to wash.” She hesitates for a moment and then adds, “You two might try being a little more circumspect in the common areas of the house.”

“Mom,” Emmett says in a pained voice. “Please don’t. We’re trying. It’s not like upstairs is that much better, what with Jasper and Edward in the next rooms…”

“Yes, yes, I don’t need details,” Esme says quickly. “Just making a suggestion!” She disappears upstairs.

I look at Emmett who dimples at me. “What do you think, baby? Are you feeling very _circumspect_ today?”

“God no.” I can’t stop myself from moving back towards him. I certainly don’t feel very circumspect, not when I look at him and feel my belly start fluttering just because I’m thinking about what he might do to me. I brush my hand across his crotch. “I’m glad I’m not a boy or I’d be walking around with a hard on all the time…at least no one knows if I start getting hot!”

Emmett laughs, and I feel his cock start rising under my hand. “It can be awkward!” he admits. “Sometimes I end up sitting at the breakfast table a lot longer than I meant to just because I’ve been watching you walk around in your pyjamas and thinking about what you look like underneath them…”

I kiss him hard, cutting the words short, and then I forget all about Esme as I the two of us become absorbed only in each other. I move from his lips, kissing his throat and chest, moving down lower until I’ve got his cock in my hands and my mouth right there and Emmett is nearly whimpering with desperation. As I close my lips around him and hear his hitching breath I realise I’ve never done this for him before.

There might be a reason for that.

I very rarely think of Royce or the attack when I’m with Emmett. What I do with him bears so little relation to that night in the park that it is usually easy for me to focus only on the present, on the playful, messy pleasure of being with Emmett. And if ever I start to slip back all I have to do is look at him, and the softness of his mouth and the bright love in his eyes is all I need to reassure me that I am safe and I am loved and that this is good. But now I can feel the anxiety rising and I have to concentrate hard to focus on the enjoyment I’m giving him, listening to the noises he makes and taking in the shifting of his thighs on either side of me. But as he gets closer to orgasm he drops his head back and I can’t see his face, and then he puts a heavy hand on my head and the panic that explodes in my heart is uncontrollable.

I half scream and half choke as I blindly shove Emmett away and scramble backwards. All I want to do is run, but I come up against the free weight bench and as it hits me in the back I stop, fighting the panic that’s constricting my breathing to a hoarse wheeze.

_Stop it! It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s Emmett…_

Emmett is curled up in the foetal position on the floor. I have no idea what I’ve done to him when I have slammed my hands into him and pushed him away from me, but his face is stark white and his eyes are squeezed shut in pain.

“Emmett!” I’m over at his side in a second. “I’m sorry! Are you okay? I’m sorry…”

“Dead,” he grunts. “Christ, you should have…” Emmett opens his eyes and sees my face and then he reaches out to me with one hand, although the other one stays firmly clamped into his crotch. “Rosa, it’s okay.”

My hands shake as I touch him. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “What did I…? Are you okay?”

Emmett groans as he rises up to his knees and zips his pants back up with a grimace before he wraps his arms around me. “You just slammed me in the balls…I’ll live.” His eyes are searching mine. “What happened, beautiful girl?”

“I’m sorry,” I repeat, resting my head against his chest so I don’t have to look at him and feeling my panic ease as I listen to his heartbeat. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t know…I didn’t know that would happen.”

“What did happen?” Emmett is insistent. “Why did you freak out?”

There’s a long silence. “You put your hand on my head,” I say tiredly. “It felt like a threat.”

Emmett pulls away slightly. He looks stricken. “It wasn’t…anything like that,” he falters. “I just…god, I didn’t even realise I did it! I am so, so sorry…I was so close to coming and I wasn’t thinking at all! I just wanted to…to touch you, and that was all I could reach…”

“I _know_ ,” I say intently, gripping his hand. “Please. I know you didn’t mean anything by it- this isn’t a rational response!” The tears are threatening now. “I _know_ you won’t hurt me, I _know_ you’re not like him…”

“Fuck!” Emmett closes his eyes for a minute, biting hard on his knuckles before he looks at me again. “You don’t have to do to that for me. You know that, right? You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, or that makes you think about them. I don’t _want_ anything that might bring them back…” He swears again and runs his hand through his hair, looking miserable.

Exhausted, I lean against him and stroke his hand. His knuckles are red and marked where he’s gnawed on them, a sure sign of his anxiety. “I’m okay.”

“It’s so fucking hard sometimes,” Emmett says in a low, shaking voice. “I don’t want to make this about me, because it’s really not. But I want you know that I’m aware, all the time, of what happened to you and I’m trying the whole fucking time not to do _anything_ that’s going to trigger something…and I’m so sorry that I fucked it up today.”

“You couldn’t have known,” I say quietly. “I don’t even know what’s going to do it.” I can feel the heavy weight of unhappiness as I say, “It’s always going to be there though Emmett, it’s always going to be the spectre in the room when I have sex. I have to learn to live with that. But you don’t- if you decide it’s too hard then that’s okay…”

“No.” Emmett doesn’t let me finish. “Nothing is too hard if it means I get to be with you. You’re worth it.”

 _So are you._ I think about what Kari has said about acceptance, about taking back control of my own body and life so that my assault becomes only a chapter of my story and not the whole plot line. I think about lucky I feel to have Emmett be the one beside me as I try, afraid and uncertain as I might be, to do that.

“I love you,” I say softly, ducking my face as I add, “And I love having sex with you, even if sometimes I kind of fall to pieces! I’m so glad you’re willing to hang in there with me.”

“More than willing,” Emmett tells me seriously, but his dimples are showing and I know he’s smiling. “Whatever it takes, baby, even if that means you never give me head again.”

I laugh. “No need to go that far. It didn’t work out today, but I’m guessing you’re never going to hold my head if I’m down there again…”

“Christ, no!” Emmett says fervently. “This is all assuming you haven’t done any permanent damage when you just about crushed my balls back into my body…I might not even work anymore.”

I know he’s teasing and I make a face and tickle him, and then he shouts and a second later we’re both rolling over the floor and screaming with laughter as we try and out-tickle each other. We’re being so loud that we almost don’t hear Carlisle shouting for Emmett from the kitchen, but eventually his yells penetrate and Emmett jumps to his feet.

“I’ve got to go see what Dad wants,” he says, holding out his hand to help me to my feet.

Carlisle is hovering in the doorway leading down to the rec room, holding a large envelope which he thrusts at Emmett. “I got the mail and this was in it…open it!” he demands.

“Hurry up!” Esme begs him.

Emmett takes it, and I hear his indrawn breath as he takes in the Oregon State University logo in the top corner. He’s not smiling now, but he doesn’t hesitate as he tears into it and pulls out the letter, reading it as quickly as he can. I see his eyes moving across the words and then he bites his lip and looks at Carlisle and Esme, and the smile that breaks across his face is as bright as the sun.

“They want me,” he says. “They really want me…baseball scholarship and all. Not full, but pretty substantial. I’m in. I’m in!” He ducks his head and holds out his arms as Esme and Carlisle engulf him in hugs.

“We are so proud of you!” Carlisle says emotionally. “You worked so hard Emmett, and you deserve this. Well done!”

Esme just hugs him and kisses his cheek. She doesn’t speak, but it doesn’t need words to express the pride that I can see in her face when she looks at her son.

Emmett hugs them back and then turns to me with a joyous laugh. “I’m going to Oregon State to play baseball!” he exclaims, grabbing me in his arms and hugging me as he swings me around. “God damn baby, they really want me!”

“They want me!” he shouts, releasing me so that I drop back to the floor. Then he bounds out of the kitchen, looking for the others. “Ali, Edward…I got it! I’m going to Oregon State to play baseball!”

“Thank goodness!” Carlisle says, turning to Esme and embracing her. “After all that stress…good on him!”

“I’m so proud of him!” Esme sniffs, half laughing as she wipes away tears. “For all he plays baseball like he was born to it, the school work has never come easily to him and he’s worked so hard.”

I’m so happy for Emmett too, as I leave Carlisle and Esme and chase the whooping sounds of glee coming from Emmett as he rushes to tell Alice and Edward.

“That’s brilliant!” Edward says, as Emmett crushes him in a hug. “I’m so pleased for you!”

Emmett is laughing as Alice jumps at him, and the two of them look suddenly very alike as they grin at each other and then hug.

“I knew you’d do it!” Alice says in satisfaction. “As if any school who plays ball would be dumb enough to turn you down.”

Carlisle and Esme take us all out to the diner for dinner to celebrate. Forks is such a small town that practically everyone in the diner knows either Carlisle, Esme or one of the kids and everyone is delighted to hear the news. Even high school sport is important here, and anyone who follows it has been watching Emmett play for years. The family barely have a moment without someone else coming over to offer Emmett their congratulations.

I love to watch him so happy. There is something so boldly joyful about Emmett- there’s no trace of smugness or conceit, just pure, unadulterated happiness in what he sees as his great good fortune. This emotional honesty radiates out from him and warms me, and I sit beside him and watch him eat and talk to people and think how much he deserves this. He keeps in almost constant physical touch with me too, with his thigh against mine under the table, a careless hand on my elbow as we get up to leave, warm fingers laced through mine as he sits beside in the car on the way home.

It’s not until later, when I wake up in the middle of the night with my heart aching that I confront what Emmett’s news means for me. His plans for next year are decided. He’s going to college in Oregon and me…well, the application deadlines are approaching and I have no plans at all. I lie in my bed and think numbly that once again people around me are moving on and I’m still caught here, in this fathomless place of fear and uncertainty and nothingness that Royce and his friends left me in.

 _No._ I grit my teeth and sit up, feeling the strength of anger coursing through me. _No more._ This is not the kind of anger that makes me want to scream and curse and hit out…instead it’s an anger that brings with it a kind of certainty and determination. _I’m going to take back my life. I will work out what I want to do and where I can go from here…I won’t let them win._


	38. Not Nothing At All

“I’m thinking about going back to Rochester for the hearing on the civil case,” I say into a brief lull in the conversation around the breakfast table. “Dad and the lawyer want me to give a victim impact statement, and I’m thinking maybe I might want to.”

I don’t think the reaction could be more stunned if I’d just lunged across the table and stabbed someone with my fork. Six sets of eyes stare at me in shock as I methodically take a bite of my peanut butter, bacon and banana sandwich and chew it slowly, concentrating on keeping calm. “Kari thinks it could be a good idea,” I add.

“Are you sure?” Jasper asks bluntly.

I look across at him with a slightly unsteady smile. “No, I’m not sure at all!” I confess. “But it might be a chance to stand up and have what they did acknowledged.”

I risk a glance at Alice and Edward, who I’ve never talked to openly about what happened. A big part of me still doesn’t want to, but if I can’t talk about it here, in a place where I know I’m safe and where I belong, how will I ever be able to do so in front of strangers? I take a deep breath and say quietly, “I don’t know how much you know. But when I was assaulted I was raped. It was my boyfriend at the time and his friends who did it, and you know a lot of the injures they caused- the broken bones, the fractured skull, the ruptured spleen…but I was also pregnant at the time. The assault forced a miscarriage and then I haemorrhaged and they had to do an emergency hysterectomy, so now I can’t have babies anymore.” By the time I’m finished my voice is barely audible and my stomach is so clenched with nerves that I feel as though I might vomit on the table, but I also feel a flash of triumph. I did it. I told them. _I’m strong enough now to do this._  

“Oh my god Rosalie, I’m so sorry!” Alice looks truly distressed. “That’s horrible!”

Edward murmurs his agreement with her. He looks half embarrassed to know such intimate details about me, but my regard for him increases as he meets my eyes squarely and says that he’s sorry it happened.

“What will you do in court?” Alice asks.

I shrug. “I have to talk about it more with Kari. But I think I just have to stand up and say what they did to me and how it’s impacted my life.” I swallow hard. “I can tell the judge about my baby.”

“We’re proud of you for even considering it,” Carlisle says. “It won’t be easy, but I know that a lot people find it gives them a sense of empowerment or even closure.”

“That’s what Kari says,” I say around the last mouthful of my breakfast sandwich. I look at Carlisle uncertainly. “I don’t know if I will really be able to do it when it comes down to it,” I admit. “But Kari said if I have something written down someone else will be able to read it out for me in court.”

“You know it’s possible that Royce might be there in court?” Carlisle says quietly. “I’ve spoken to your father about the case because I’ve organised the medical reports for him and have been very clear with him that you need to make the decision on how much participation you’re comfortable with, and he told me that with the amount of money that’s on the line here the department of corrections may well let him out of prison to attend.”

I stare at him blankly. It has never occurred to me that Royce might be there and that I might have to look at him. “Really?” My voice is very small. “I didn’t know that.”

“He won’t be allowed to speak to you or intimidate you in any way,” Carlisle tells me gently. “But you need to be prepared for the possibility that he may be there.”

I nod silently. My mind shies away from the very idea of Royce now, just thinking about him raises up the image of the figure of terror from my nightmares…but maybe seeing him will help that. Because he’s a man, not the giant and unstoppable monster from my dreams, and maybe if I could see him that way again it would help me send the dreams away.

It’s my turn to pack the dishwasher and tidy up the table after breakfast. Alice helps me, seeming more hyperactive than usual with her jumping around and endless chattering. Eventually, as I wipe the empty table, I can’t stand her babbling anymore.

“Alice,” I say, “Just stop.” I toss the dishcloth towards the sink and turn towards her.

She looks at me in the sudden silence, and her lip trembles. “I’m sorry about your baby,” she says softly. “That’s all I wanted to say really, but I didn’t know how to bring it up. I’m sorry about the baby…and I hope you do go to this civil case and give him hell!” she bursts out passionately.

I half laugh and half sob. “Thank you. It’s so hard to talk about, because no one seems to understand…you’re not supposed to want a baby when you’re seventeen. And to be honest I _didn’t_ really want her when I first knew she was there! But I was going to make it work, and I loved her and…she’s gone.”

Tears are shining in Alice’s eyes. “It must have been so awful.”

I shrug. “It was. But at least you know now why I’m such an emotional basket case. Rape and beatings and losing babies will do that to you, you know.”

Alice gives a sudden giggle, and then claps her hand across her mouth looking guilty. “I’m sorry,” she says to me, squirming. “But honestly, I was just thinking that knowing what happened makes you seem much LESS of a basket case…truly, if it had been me I would probably be in a straightjacket and you’ve just gone on with your life and you’re going to be all badass and confront him! You’re stronger than I am.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m not,” I say quietly. “I’m just an ordinary person Alice, just dealing with what has come my way like everyone does. What came my way was horrible, but that doesn’t make me a better or stronger person than anyone else would be…you cope with what you have to, and you never know how much you can handle until it’s there and you try.”

“You’ve done well though, Rose.” It’s Jasper, lounging in the doorway to the living room and looking at me steadily. “I’m really impressed that you’re even thinking about going back…I couldn’t do it.”

“You could,” I say, but Jasper shakes his head.

“No,” he says quietly. “I really couldn’t…I can’t.” His face is stricken, and his eyes are shadowed with guilt. “You know I’ve seen Kari a few times too?”

I’m shocked. “No. I had no idea.”

This is obviously not news to Alice, because instead of surprise she just smiles sweetly at Jasper and gives him a hug. “I’ll leave you to talk,” she says, and disappears into the other room.

I sit down at the table, still staring at Jasper, and a moment later he sits down beside me, stretching out his legs. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.

He shrugs, staring out the window. “I didn’t want to give you more to deal with,” he says at last.

“What do you talk about?” I stretch my legs out too- they’re not quite as long as Jasper’s but they come close – and stare out the window too, so he doesn’t have to look at me while he talks.

Jasper hesitates. “What happened to you,” he says finally. “What it was like for me.”

 _Oh, Jasper._ My heart catches, and I shift my chair nearer to him, until I’m close enough that I can lean against his arm and rest my head on his shoulder.

“I know that compared to what you went through, what I went through was nothing,” Jasper’s voice is low. “But that doesn’t mean it was nothing at all…do you know what I mean?”

I nod, and a moment later Jasper starts talking, slow and halting. “I’ve had a hard time dealing with a lot of things…I think about it all the time. About dad and I getting that call in the middle of the night to say that you were in surgery and it was critical and we’d better get down to the hospital right away. Then finding out what they’d done to you, _seeing_ what they’d done to you…finding out about the baby. Seeing you when you were just shattered, mind and body…that was so hard.”

Jasper stops and takes a breath and I lay my hand on his thigh with my palm up until he takes it, and we grip hands in a way that’s almost too tight as he continues. “I couldn’t stop thinking about everything- about the way you looked when I told you that the baby was gone, about the way your voice was when you told the police all the details about what happened.” Jasper shudders. “And because Dad’s so hopeless and Mom is gone I had to be the one to take care of you when you came home…and god, I would do it all again in a second Rosie, you know I’d do anything for you, but it wasn’t easy to do.”

I remember in odd, disjointed flashes of memory the days immediately following my attack when Jasper was always by my side. I remember the way he stayed when I spoke to the police, silently holding my hand as my hoarse, cracked voice detailed all that horror, not leaving my side until I felt safe enough to let him. When I was discharged he looked after me at home, getting me anything I needed and helping me with all those small things that broken ribs and arms made difficult. I haven’t thought about it since it happened, but I remember that when the bite mark became infected and turned into an abscess Jasper was the one who changed the dressings when it made me throw up. He did all of that without a murmur, and suddenly I think about what a burden it must have been for him.

“You were so good to me,” I say unsteadily.

“You would have done the same for me. And I _wanted_ to do it, I wanted to do anything I could to make things better. You know how we’ve always looked out for each other…with Mom being sick for so many years and then dying when she did, and Dad being the way he is, you and I have always been closer to each other than most brothers and sisters I think. I just wanted to make things better for you. But as time went on and you kept having nightmares and were so unhappy and angry and your whole life changed I started realising that maybe it wasn’t ever going to get better. I felt so guilty about it. All I could think about was that I should have been there, should have done _something_ so that it didn’t happen.”

“You couldn’t have done anything,” I whisper.

Jasper moves restlessly. “I couldn’t stop playing everything over in my mind. I had never liked Royce, although I admit I didn’t think he’d turn out to be a complete fucking sociopath! He was always an arrogant ass though, and when you started going out with him I thought you’d see him for what he was and dump him pretty quick. So I didn’t say anything then, and before I knew it he was in your bed and messing up your head and I _still_ didn’t say anything…”

“I wouldn’t have listened to you,” I break in. “Really, nothing anyone could have said back then would have changed my mind about Royce. Vera tried a couple of times…I was a little more honest with her than most people about what went on with Royce and she was concerned. She tried to tell me that it wasn’t good and I just about bit her head off. I even avoided her for a while after that.” I make a face as I remember how shamefully I treated a friend who had only being trying to help me. “Truly Jasper, you mustn’t even think about that anymore…you _know_ how pig headed I can be, and I would never have broken up with Royce just because you told me you didn’t like him!”

Jasper doesn’t smile. “Probably not. But I couldn’t forgive myself for not even trying, not given what happened.”

“So how did you end up with Kari?” I ask.

“I didn’t really have anyone to talk to,” Jasper tells me. “Alice and I have been getting pretty close but she didn’t know what happened so I could only talk about it in vague terms. I talked to Carlisle a bit.” Japer looks vaguely embarrassed. “I got pretty upset one day and he suggested going to see Kari…I thought it couldn’t hurt.”

“Has it helped?” I ask.

“Yeah, she’s pretty good,” Jasper admits. He looks at me keenly. “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to feel responsible for my feelings.”

I shrug helplessly. “Of course I do…but I also know that it’s not exactly my fault that we’re all in this mess.” For a long time we’re both quiet, before I say hesitantly, “It’s one of the reasons I want to go to the hearing and make this impact statement- this ongoing ripple effect of what happened. The impact has been so much more than what Carlisle can write in a medical report. It’s not just all the broken bones and the dead baby- it’s that you’ve been traumatised too and had to give up your senior year at home to come here with me; it’s that I lost all my friends and I’m always afraid and I’m never going to have a simple relationship with a man again. Emmett is amazing, but it’s still hard sometimes. We shouldn’t have to have a conversation about the fact that I will never be able to give him a baby. I should be able to fool around with him when I _want_ to without nearly biting his cock off because he accidently touches me wrong.”

“Eww, bit too much info there!” Jasper makes a face, and I giggle a little hysterically.

“Sorry!”

Jasper shakes his head, but the look in his eyes is kind as he says, “I was wrong about you and Emmett. Sometimes you DO know what’s good for you…and he’s good for you.” He hesitates for a moment and then says quietly, “Have you thought about him going to Oregon State next year? What that will mean for you?”

I rest my head on his shoulder again and stare out the window. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ll be doing next year…I know I have to work something out. But it won’t be affected by what Emmett’s doing. I know that I can’t do that, I can’t rely on him for something he might not be able to give me…or something I might not _want_ him to give me a year from now.” I can feel the blush heating my face as I say, “But I’m kind of crazy in love with him Jas.”

Jasper hugs me, and spontaneously I hug him back. “I love you Rosie,” he mutters. “Whatever has happened, whatever will happen…there’s always going to be that.”


	39. The Truth About Trains

Emmett is lying on his bed listening to music and contemplating the ceiling when I go into his room later. He turns his head to smile at me and with an inaudible sigh of relief I lie down beside, my hand stroking his chest as his arm holds me tucked into his shoulder. I’m tired and edgy and emotional… _I always feel so safe when I’m with you._ I let his warmth and calm and happiness seep into me and feel myself relax _._

I notice Emmett’s holding a little wooden train engine in his free hand, idly spinning the wheels with his thumb.

“What are you playing with?” I ask curiously.

In response he hands me the train. I recognise the type, since Jasper and I had several when we were little. It’s a little wooden engine that fits with the Thomas the Tank Engine wooden tracks, but I don’t remember the name of this particular engine and when I turn it over to see where it should be printed on the bottom I find that the name has been scraped off. Instead, in wobbly, childish letters, someone has written the name _EMMETT._

I smile at it, and look at Emmett. “You had to have your own engine named after you?”

Emmett grins back. “I didn’t write it, Edward did.” He slides my ponytail through his fingers. “I’ve had it for a long time now.”

I bump the little engine over the lumps of his abdominals. I know he keeps this engine in the bottom drawer with the photo of his mother and the other things that are important to him. This is more than just a toy. “Tell me about it.”

 “I used to steal,” Emmett tells me frankly, although I can’t help but notice the way his ears go red. “All the time. When I was little and lived with Momma it was often just self-preservation- I mostly stole food because Alice and I were hungry. Sometimes I’d take toys because we hardly ever had anything new to play with. Momma could be pretty light fingered herself, so even if I got caught she didn’t really care. When I came to the Cullens I didn’t need to steal any more, but I still did it.” He hesitates. “I stole food and hid it a lot. I took things from Carlisle and Esme and hid them too- things like Esme’s watch and Carlisle’s bookmark…small things, nothing important, just because I wanted to have something of them.” He shrugs. “The therapist had a field day with all my stealing and lying and abandonment issues, let me tell you that!”

“How does the train fit in with that?” I ask curiously, still playing with it, making it roll down Emmett’s stomach and catching it in my hand.

“I stole it from Edward because I was jealous of him,” Emmett admits. “He was the most uptight, prissiest little kid you can imagine and I didn’t even like him much, but I thought he had everything. Carlisle and Esme were his _real_ mom and dad - I didn’t understand that he was adopted too then - he lived in that nice house and had all those toys and went to preschool and he could read. He was actually a pretty good little kid and shared all of that with me and Alice pretty well, but to me it felt…it was still _his_ room and _his_ toys and _his_ mom and dad and I didn’t have anything, you know?”

I cup my hand around his face and kiss him, feeling the rough stubble scratching slightly against my skin. He’s nineteen now and a confident, self assured man and yet I can still see the shadow of the neglected, deprived little boy he’d been. It’s hard for me to imagine what that was like. I never lacked for things the way Emmett did as a child, and Jasper and I shared space in the womb- we were always on an equal footing.

“The train set was his favourite toy,” Emmett goes on. “I was so jealous of it, especially when I realised that there was an _Edward_ engine but not an _Emmett_ one.” He laughs a little self-consciously. “I know it sounds dumb, but I was just a messed up little kid and that _Edward_ train made me feel like I was no one and had nothing, and it was always going to be that way. I hated it. So I took it.” He takes the train from me and thoughtfully runs his finger along the wheels.

“Things with my momma hadn’t been going well once we were living with Carlisle and Esme,” Emmett goes on. I can tell he’s trying to sound matter-of-fact, but he can’t disguise the tiny note of hurt when he talks about his mother. “Momma was supposed to have visitation but it was a bit of a shit show. She was okay at the start, but then she started showing up late, or high, or not coming at all. Alice didn’t care- she never wanted to go anyway. She didn’t ever want to leave Carlisle and Esme…she already called Esme mommy like Edward did. I cared though. As messed up as everything was, I loved my momma.” Emmett’s jaw is tight, and I lay my hand over his heart and press my lips against the beating pulse in his throat.

“It was after the visitation stopped that Carlisle and Esme began talking adoption. I was eight by then and then they asked me about it, if I wanted them to be my mom and dad too and we could all have the same name and stay together. I guess I wanted to test them, because I told them that I’d stolen Edward’s train. I half thought they’d beat me and then kick me out, but of course they didn’t. They said that they knew I had it, they’d known all along that I was the one taking the things, and they were just waiting for me to decide to give them all back, because they knew I would do the right thing in the end.” Emmett smiles reminiscently. “That was like some kind of revelation to me…it was like the first time in my life that I felt like someone expected something good from me and actually believed that I could do it. For the first time I kind of saw that maybe I could be something other than the stupid kid who couldn’t read and stole thing and whose momma chose drugs instead of him.”

 _I could be something else…_ I have a sudden flash of clarity about the way being raped forced me into this role of the victim that I hate so much and how I’m fighting to free myself.  _I could be something else…_ A survivor, not a victim. I tuck the thoughts away for further contemplation, and gently stroke Emmett’s hand. “You’re so much more than that.”

Emmett kisses my forehead. “It wasn’t like I had it all sorted out then. I was just a kid…but it was one second when I saw that the future had possibilities and that maybe I did too. So I went to Edward and fessed up that I’d stolen his train because I was mad that there was an _Edward_ engine and not an _Emmett_ one. Funnily enough Edward wasn’t even mad- he just thought for a bit and said that it wasn’t fair to have one without the other, so he took one of the other engines and scratched off the name and wrote _Emmett._ He told me that I could be the biggest engine because I was the biggest brother…it was the first time he ever called me his brother.” Emmett spins the wheels on the engine again. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

“I asked.” I slide my hand under his t-shirt and stroke his belly. “I like hearing about when you were little,” I tell him slowly. “It sounds like it was all…well, pretty awful to be honest. But it doesn’t control who you are now.”

Emmett curls my ponytail around his hand and looks thoughtfully into the distance. “No, it doesn’t,” he says. “I mean, I wouldn’t be who I am if all that shit hadn’t happened, but it’s not the only thing.” He looks at me intently. “What happened to you won’t always control who you are, either.”

“It feels like it will.”

Emmett kisses me slowly. “It won’t. There’s so much more to you than a pretty face and one horrible night.”

I kiss him back, and I love him all over again because once he was a small, damaged child and now he’s whole and strong and beautiful…and he makes me believe that one day I can be too.

“I want to come to Rochester with you,” Emmett says quietly.

“Really?” My heart jumps at the thought of having him with me, but at the same time I can’t help feeling doubtful. “It’s going to be horrible.”

“I know.” Emmett caresses my back. “It’s going to be hard to see you put yourself out there and listen to you talk about how much they hurt you.” I can see a muscle jump in his jaw. “But it will be worse for you and I want to be there for you.”

I bury my face in his neck. I know after talking to Jasper in the kitchen earlier that I don’t want to ask him to come with me. He’ll do it for me, in fact he’ll probably offer to come with me, but until today I haven’t realised how close he’s been pushed to his limit and I don’t want to make it worse for him. I also know that I can’t go alone, that I’ll never be able to do what I want to do with only Dad at my side. But if Emmett comes, with his strength and his smiles and his easy optimism, and most of all his bright and bold love for me…that will make all the difference.

“I would love that,” I whisper fervently. “If you can…I will love so much for you to be with me.” I trace my lips across his throat until I reach his mouth, and then I’m kissing him and he’s kissing back and I’m not thinking about Rochester or trains or Jasper…I’m not thinking about anything but what is happening in the here and now.

“I’m going to lock the door,” Emmett mutters, jumping off the bed and moving across the room with alacrity. He’s not wearing a t-shirt anymore and his jeans are unbuttoned and hanging off his hips “Don’t need Edward – or even worse, my _mother –_ coming in…oh jesus, Rosalie.”

He turns around and sees that, back on the bed, I’ve got rid of the bra and t-shirt that had been tangled up around my neck and my pants are already half way down my legs. I blush at my own eagerness. “Sorry.”

“ _Oh god, no!”_ he exclaims, coming back and kneeling at my feet as he gently takes my pants and knickers from my hands and slides them over my feet. “Don’t _ever_ apologise for getting naked for me, baby.” He’s holding my feet and he kisses my ankles, as he squirms his way out of his own pants. “You have got really good legs Rosa girl…did I ever tell you that?”

He punctuates his words with kisses along my calves and on my knees, and I watch him breathlessly. “I don’t know that you’ve ever mentioned them…not specifically,” I say.

“Well, that’s a sad oversight,” Emmett murmurs, kissing his way up my thighs. “Because they really are pretty goddamn sexy…”

He’s kissing higher and higher on my legs, his hand tracing a similar path, I’m squirming. Half because it feels so good, and half because his mouth is getting closer and closer to the apex of my thighs and I don’t know what I’m going to do if he does… _that._ His lips touch me where no one has ever kissed before, and I just about jump out of my skin.

Emmett stops, looking up my body at me and breathing hard. “Can I do that?” he asks uncertainly.

I want him so badly! I’m breathing hard too, and everything between my legs feels hot and swollen and throbbing with desire, and he _wants_ to…I swallow hard and nod. Emmett’s hands gently stroke along my thighs, pushing them further apart, before he lowers his head and I feel his tongue. Then I can think of nothing as I grab another pillow and bury my face in it so I won’t make any noise, because _oh my god Emmett, fuck yes…_

I don’t know how long he’s down there but he makes me come, the kind of orgasm that just goes on and leaves me so hypersensitive that I can’t stop shivering and twitching, and when Emmett brushes a finger across me I nearly scream. He’s half laughing as he sits up and watches me trying to regain my breath, and his eyes are bright with love.

“I’ve never done that before,” he tells me smugly.

“Well,” I say, panting, “For a first attempt it wasn’t too bad.”

Emmett chuckles and slides on top of me, his legs in between mine. “You can’t hide it from me…I rocked your world and we both know it.” He lowers his head and kisses me, and it gives me a sudden shock to smell myself on his face and taste myself on his lips. It’s not bad, it’s just…new.

“I’ve never done that before either,” I admit.

“Really?” Emmett looks astonished. “But…he didn’t do that to you?”

I shake my head. “Royce didn’t like anything that made him feel like he wasn’t in control,” I say.

“Well, his loss,” Emmett murmurs. “Because that was really, _really_ hot Rosa girl, and I kind of can’t wait to do it again.” His eyes are boring into mine as he settles his thighs in between mine and starts pushing into me. “I love watching you come.”

I can’t even string words together as he moves in me, slow and deep, his eyes still fastened on my face. Neither of us look away. Not when he starts moving faster, not when my body is flooded again with that pulsing heat and explosion as I come again, not when Emmett comes with a string of low cries as his body shudders. We watch each other, and it is the most intimate and caring we’ve ever been together.

_I love you. I love you too._

 


	40. Preparations

Everyone at school is pleased and excited for Emmett when he shares the news of his baseball scholarship. It’s been a long time since anyone at school has been recruited for a division one sports school, and Emmett is universally well liked so people are genuinely glad for him. Even his teachers, who have struggled for two years to make him work and pass their courses, couldn’t be more pleased for him.

Jasper’s letter from Columbia comes the next week. _Congratulations on your acceptance into Columbia!_ He’s the only senior who applied for early decision anywhere, and once again everyone at school makes a big fuss. It surprises me a little, but it’s a small school and Columbia is a big deal.

The school newspaper writes a story about them and takes a photo of the two of them to go with it. I get a copy of it and keep it in my room, a picture of the two people I love best in the world, both of them smiling and happy as they look towards the future.

It feels as though every other senior in school has nothing on their minds but college applications. Everyone is constantly talking about their choices, about their dream schools and safety schools and the courses they want to do, talking about their essays and portfolios and interviews.

It’s different for me and I hate it. While everyone else is writing college essays and dreaming of the future, I’m avoiding my college advisor and struggling to write a victim impact statement and free myself from the past. There is no room in my heart and mind right now for planning the future, and sometimes I can’t help but wonder bleakly what will happen to me.

Even Leah, when I go out to La Push one afternoon in an effort to get away and clear my mind, is thinking about college.

“Not you too!” I say in despair, as I come shivering into her living room and find her sitting in front of the fire with a notebook on her knees and several brochures and college prospectuses scattered around. Boo Boo is stretched out beside her with a Guide to College Essay Writing book propped open against his side.

“What?” Leah asks. She looks across at me and sees my blue lips and shivering skin and shuffles over. “You look freezing- what were you doing? Come and warm up.”

The fire is throwing out a lot of heat and I sigh a little as I sit beside her. Boo Boo flicks an ear in my direction and I pet him gingerly on his head. “Hello dog.”

“I went for a walk on the beach,” I tell Leah. I don’t tell her how beautiful it had been, that fierce, isolated bleakness, with crystals of ice caught in the seaweed and driftwood on the beach. I think she probably knows though. “I was trying to get away from the idea of college applications,” I add peevishly, picking up one of the brochures and making a face.

“So you still haven’t decided anything?” Leah asks.

I sigh. “Well, maybe if I leave it long enough I’ll have missed _all_ the deadlines and then there won’t be a decision to make.”

“Have you thought about taking a year off?” Leah suggests. “Just staying home and getting a job or something while you figure out what you want to do?”

My heart feels heavy. “Home where?” I say softly. “Rochester doesn’t feel like home anymore, but I don’t know about Forks. The Cullens were happy to have me live here this year for school, but I doubt they want to adopt me permanently.”

“That would suck, home not feeling like home anymore,” Leah says.

I shrug, dropping the brochure I have and picking up another one. “Yeah well…I’ll work it out. Looks like you have?”

“Yes, I’ve made a decision,” Leah tells me determinedly. “I’m applying to the University of Washington. I’ve been looking into financial aid and talking to mom, and if I’m cheap and stingy and maybe get a part time job I can make it work.”

“That’s great,” I say, doing my best to sound pleased. “What made you decide?”

“I’ve got to get out of here,” Leah says ruefully. “I keep running into Emily out walking with the baby, and even though we’re talking again now and she’s trying to be friendly, the situation just doesn’t work for me. I really need some space, some perspective…I’m hoping that college will give me that, and UW looks pretty good.”

She passes a college prospectus to me, and I take it and move to the armchair, flicking through it absently. “Will you live in the dorms?”

Leah snorts. “I can’t think of anything worse, honestly. Living with that many people? No thanks. I’m going to have an apartment- one of the women my mom works with has had two kids at UW and she and her husband bought an apartment there for them to live in while they were at school. The youngest one is graduating at the end of next semester but they want to keep the apartment as an investment and rent it out, and she’s happy for me to have it. I’ll need to get a roommate but the place is close to campus and not too expensive, so it won’t be hard to find one.”

“I wouldn’t live in the dorms either,” I say slowly.

“Really?” Leah says. “I would have thought you’d be right into the social scene...a complete sorority Barbie.”

I roll my eyes at her irritably. “Why do you always accuse me of being an airhead?”

“I’m sorry,” Leah says contritely. “I know you’re not. It’s just you’re so blonde and perfect and you were a cheerleader and it’s too easy to put you into your stereotypical box!”

“Yeah, well the stereotypical box has been smashed,” I mutter. “I couldn’t live in the dorms, not with that many people around. You know, I’d get edgy out in Jake’s garage when there were more than a couple of the guys out there…I don’t think I could live in the dorms with so many strangers.”

So many strange _men_ is what I mean, and the bitterness in my heart grows a little because this is another thing, another possibility that has been taken away from me. Because Leah is right that six months ago I would have been wild with excitement at the thought of moving into the college dorms and pledging a sorority like my mom did when she was at college.

“Well, there’ll be a spare room going in my apartment,” Leah says lightly, flipping through the pages in her notebook and making a couple of corrections. “I generally don’t trust people who don’t like dogs, but I might make an exception for you.”

I sniff and then scowl at the prospectus I’m looking through, skipping through the accommodation section and starting to read about some of the freshman courses. With the civil case hearing looming large in my mind I have no room in my head for college plans now.

As if she can read my mind Leah says, “Are you ready to go back to Rochester?”

I nod dispiritedly. “Yes. No. I don’t know…am I ever going to be ready? But we’ve got the tickets booked and my dad’s expecting me.”

“Is Emmett going with you?”

“Yes. I wasn’t sure how Carlisle and Esme would feel about that,” I admit. “He’ll have to miss a few days of school and they’re fanatical about school, especially for Emmett, but they didn’t even hesitate when he told them he wanted to go with me. I think…I think they’re glad someone is going along to look after me.”

I don’t tell Leah about how much Esme and Carlisle’s concern has meant to me. Not only were they happy for Emmett to fly to New York for a few days with me, when she discovered Jasper wasn’t going Esme offered repeatedly to come with me too.

Growing up without my mother and with a father who was distant at best and downright neglectful at worst, I’ve never had adults to rely on. I’ve always thought it didn’t matter that much- Jasper and I had each other and we managed, and as teenagers it was sometimes a boon to have no parentally enforced boundaries. But now, even though I’m eighteen and technically an adult, Esme and Carlisle have come into my life with their open hearts and seemingly boundless capacity to care…and it turns out maybe I do need some parenting after all.

Glancing at my watch I see that I’m going to be late if I don’t leave now. “I have to go,” I say gloomily. “I have an appointment with Carlisle _and_ Kari…I’m not sure that I can cope with the psychobabble of the two of them together, but they want to make sure I’m ‘prepared’ for this hearing…whatever that means.”

Leah makes a horrible face that I presume is meant to be sympathetic, and then walks me to the door. As I go to leave, she pushes the college handbook I was looking at into the pocket of my coat. “I meant it about the apartment,” she mutters. “I’d live with you. And UW is a good school…I know you’re not really ready to make a choice, but hey, you might want to consider it. There’s still a week and a half til the application deadline anyway.”

“Thanks,” I say, a little uncertainly. “I…I’ll look at it, okay?”

But I’ve forgotten all about college by the time I pull up outside Kari’s house, parking the Camaro behind Carlisle’s Mercedes. The two of them thought it would be a good idea to talk before I went to Rochester, and since I could think of no valid objection here I am.

“Come in to the kitchen Rosalie,” Kari invites. “It’s not really a proper session today, and Carlisle bought cookies…hot chocolate? Coffee? Juice?”

I shake my head and take a seat at the table. Carlisle has a mug of coffee in his hand and there’s a plate of Christmas tree shaped sugar cookies on the table in front of him. “They’re from one of my regular patients,” he says, pushing the plate towards me with a grin. “Quite safe to eat, and very delicious.”

I take one, even though I’m not hungry. They do look good- I know Emmett with gobble down the rest of the plate as soon as we get home. Silently I hand Kari a printout of the impact statement I’ve typed up on my laptop and nibble at the cookie as she reads.

“This is good Rosalie, really good,” she says as she finishes. “You write well, and you’ve covered everything we talked about that you wanted in there. Well done.” She hands it over to Carlisle who skims through it quickly.

“Good job,” he says kindly. “You’ve done well Rose. You still want to present it yourself?”

I nod, although my stomach is clenching with nerves just at the thought. “I think I can.”

“Okay,” Carlisle’s face turns serious. “I’ve done the medical report which will be presented during the hearing. It goes into a lot of detail about your injuries, about the surgery, the recovery, and the potential long term issues arising from it. It also includes the photographs taken after the assault, which you’ve already seen. None of this will be new information for you, but it may be quite confronting to have it read out in court so I want you to know what’s coming and be prepared.”

My hands are tangled in my hair, but I don’t say anything as I nod.

Kari and Carlisle exchange glances, and then Kari says gently, “The other thing you need to be prepared for Rosalie, is that Royce is going to attend the hearing. He’ll be in the courtroom.”

The whimper slips out before I can stop it, a tiny noise of helpless, hurting fear. _I don’t want to have to look at him!_ I haven’t seen Royce since that night in the park, and as the image of his handsome face rises up in my mind I want to be sick. I’m terrified of what it will be like, seeing that once familiar face again, knowing what monster lurks behind his good looks.

“He won’t…he…can’t…?” I stutter, not even sure what I’m trying to ask.

“He can’t hurt you,” Kari says forcefully. “He’ll be there under prison guard. Because of the structure of the hearing, and you being there purely for the victim impact statement and not as a witness, he can’t talk to you or question you. He will just be there in the courtroom, that’s all. You don’t even have to look at him if you don’t want to.”

 _I can’t let him win…he thought he destroyed me, but he didn’t and I have to show him that._ I take a deep breath and unwrap my hands from the lengths of my hair and place them carefully on the table. “It’s okay,” I say steadily. “I can deal with that.”

“We know you can,” Carlisle says warmly. “You’ve been incredibly strong Rosalie, and we all believe in you. Whatever happens you’ve shown enormous courage in coping with what’s been thrown your way.”

Tears prick my eyes as I nod at him. I don’t feel brave, not at all, but it helps a little to know that they think I am.

“I’ve spoken to your father, and he’s given me various instructions about your statement and even your outfit,” Kari says, and I can’t miss the note of deep disapproval in her voice. “Most of it’s rubbish- you’ve written a good, heartfelt statement and I believe you’ll be fine. Wear whatever will make you feel comfortable, you’re not there to prove anything with the way you’re dressed. The judge that you’ve been assigned is a woman and she may ask you some questions, all you need to do is answer honestly and politely and don’t worry about anything else. Remember that she’s there to be a neutral party and get all the facts and then make a decision.”

I nod again, my hands once again twisting anxiously in my hair. Inadvertently I catch Kari’s eye, and without conscious thought I whisper, “I’m so scared.”

“It’s a scary thing you’re doing,” she says. “The legal system can be incredibly intimidating, especially when it comes to such a sensitive issue. But you’ve come a long way and I know that you’re capable of functioning even when you’re afraid. As frightening as it is to be sharing your vulnerabilities like this, no one in the courtroom can hurt you anymore. You’re a survivor Rosalie, and you’re going to walk into that courtroom and everyone’s going to know it.”

“And remember we’re all only a phone call away,” Carlisle adds. “You can call Esme or I at any time. You’ll have Emmett with you too, of course.”

“You’ve got my number too?” Kari says. “I want you to use it if you need to Rosalie. You know we’ve got a session lined up for when you get back, but if you’re feeling overwhelmed or in need while you’re gone, please call me.”

It feels like they’re sending me off into battle, and in a way they are. But when I think about it I don’t know who the enemy is or what I’m really fighting for, and I have no idea what winning might look like.


	41. Going Back

The plane ride to Rochester manages to feel both long and far too short at the same time. I spend most of it wrapped in Emmett’s arms, fighting off panic at the thought of what we’re flying towards while Emmett watches gory horror movies on the inflight entertainment and plays with my hair. It’s his soothing hands and regular heartbeat that hold me together, and it almost hurts to let him go and sit upright and buckled in for landing.

We didn’t bring any luggage, so with only our carry on bags we’re good to go as soon as we get off the plane. I lead the way through the terminal, Emmett following behind and scanning the crowd.

“Are we supposed to meet your dad somewhere?” he asks.

I snort. “As if! No, these are office hours so we’ll be getting a cab. We might see dad at home later, if we’re still awake when he gets home from the office.”

“Good,” Emmett says, veering to the fast food outlets on our left. “Then we can get something to eat first, because I’m starving.” He grins at me. “And since Esme’s not here to make me feel guilty because it’s all non-organic, I’m buying junk.”

Cracking a brief smile I sit with him while he wolfs down a cheeseburger and fries. I’m thinking vaguely about the first time I ate lunch out with him, in the diner in Forks after he’d driven me to the hospital to see Carlisle, when he crumples up his wrappers and tosses them in the bin and says, “I’m happy enough to put off seeing your dad anyway. It’s not like I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

“Why?”

“Because I think the man’s a dick,” Emmett says bluntly. “He treats you and Jasper like crap. I mean, my mom might have smoked drugs and hit me a lot but even she was more engaged as a parent than your dad.”

“Well don’t hold back,” I say sarcastically, but I’m not exactly offended. I might argue Emmett’s belief that his mother was any better, but I’m not going to defend my dad too much. “He was better when my mom was around, but after she died he didn’t know what to do with us so he pretty much checked out. We had housekeepers who cooked and did the house and drove Jasper and I around when we needed it.”

“Yeah, well obviously having money makes a difference,” Emmett says. “You weren’t going hungry and living in a dump, but there are other kinds of neglect. But then, let’s not get into a discussion of crappy childhoods now.”

Emmett gives me his endearing smile as he holds out his arms, and I walk into them and lay my head against his shoulder. Kari and I have talked about my dad’s emotional neglect and I think it’s interesting that it’s something Emmett has such strong feelings about.

“Of course, there’s another reason I’m not looking forward to meeting your dad,” Emmett murmurs, running his hands down my sides so that his fingers brush across the sides of my breasts. “It’s always going to be awkward meeting a man when you’ve known his daughter in the biblical sense.”

I can’t help laughing. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

Emmett kisses me. “It sounded kind of better than ‘hi, I’m fucking your daughter’,” he says with a chuckle.

I laugh again and shake my head. “Clearly I’m dating you for your way with words.”

There are cabs waiting outside and within a few moments Emmett and I are on the way back to my house. Emmett and the driver get involved in a discussion about football but I sit silently, lost in thought. The closer we get to home the more familiar it all looks, but something is wrong. It doesn’t feel like home anymore…I realise that as we pass through the sprawling, bustling city of Rochester I’m already missing the timeless green of the Olympic forest.   

   As we climb out of the cab outside my home, Emmett looks at our tri level townhouse with interest. “How long did you live here?” he asks.

“As long as I can remember,” I answer, digging out my key. “We moved in when Jasper and I were about three I think.” Getting the door open I enter the foyer and go immediately to the alarm keypad and punch in the code before I look back at Emmett. “Welcome to Rochester,” I mutter.

Emmett closes the door behind him and looks at me in concern. “You okay baby?”

I shrug helplessly. “It’s hard to be back,” I say simply, and Emmett nods and grabs my hand.

“I love you,” he tells me quietly. “You’ll get through this.”

I squeeze his fingers and he kisses me on the top of my head and gives me a long hug.

“Now come and show me round your crib,” he says teasingly. “I’ve got to admit I’m curious to see you here in your own place.”

I smile and take him on a tour. “First floor has the kitchen, living room, dining room, bathroom and laundry room. Next floor has my dad’s bedroom suite, the study and the guest room. And then upstairs was all mine and Jasper’s.” I lead him up the staircase to the top floor, which has an enormous landing space holding a beaten up, comfortable sofa, a large tv with three different game systems on the shelves below, and several bookcases holding books, games and toys spanning years. “This was kind of our playroom,” I say to Emmett. “Then there’s the bathroom, and Jasper’s room, and my room.”

The door to my room is open, and it smells clean and fresh up here. Dad must have got the cleaners to do up here, because there is no dust and the bed has been made up with crisp new sheets. Emmett, standing in the doorway beside me, stares silently for a long time, taking it all in.

I look too, the months away changing my perspective and allowing me to look at my room with fresh eyes. It might have been cleaned, but nothing has been changed since I was last here and it feels odd to look around at this room that reflects a Rosalie that has long since disappeared. The white antique four poster bed with the matching dresser and mirror that my mom had picked out before she died and that I’d never changed. The bookcase that’s crowded with books and trinkets and trophies from cheer and gymnastics and dance, medals hanging in a bunch from the corner and a brightly coloured jumble of pompoms strewn across the top. The desk and dresser decorated with framed photographs and porcelain ballerina figures, more photos stuck into the frame of the mirror and dried corsages adorning the top of it.

“This feels so strange,” Emmett says quietly, stepping gingerly inside and dropping his backpack by the door. “I know this room is yours and these are all your things…but it doesn’t feel like it belongs to the Rosa girl I know.” He gives me a lopsided smile.

“I guess it’s kind of like your bottom drawer,” I answer him thoughtfully. “It’s who I used to be.”

Emmett stops by the dresser. He picks up the largest photo frame, a silver one with glass bead flowers, and examines the picture as I watch him, my heart thumping painfully.

“Is this…” Emmett’s voice trails away.

“Yeah.” I swallow hard and move to stand beside him, taking the picture from him as I stare down at it. Royce in his tux and me in a sleek crimson gown with a corsage of white roses and silver and crimson ribbons on my wrist, both of us with brilliant smiles on our faces…we look like the perfect couple. “That was the senior prom.”

“You look pretty.” Emmett’s voice is a little unsteady as he adds, “I’ve never known what he looked like.” He looks at the other photos of Royce that are tucked into the mirror frame, and I realise how many there are.

“It’s kind of fucked up still having all these pictures here, isn’t it?” I murmur, turning the frame over and picking at the clasps holding the back on, so I can get the photo out. I snatch the other photos down, bundling them all together and then crumpling them ineffectually in my hand before I toss them into the wastebasket.

Emmett shrugs and dimples. “Little bit fucked up, maybe,” he allows.

I lean against the desk and fold my arms across my chest. “I didn’t keep them on purpose,” I tell him. “After it happened I wasn’t even allowed to climb the stairs for two weeks after I came home from the hospital. I slept in the recliner in the living room. Even when I could finally drag myself upstairs I didn’t want to be in my room…it just made me think about too many things I wanted to forget. I spent most of my time watching tv on the sofa or in Jasper’s room.” I bite my lip, remembering those hazy days of pain and fear and soul crushing misery as my body healed.

Emmett continues his circuit of the room, looking at the other photos I’ve got out. “Who’s the baby?” he asks, pointing to a picture of me with a friend, a newborn baby sandwiched between us.

“That’s baby Henry.” I can’t stop the smile as I look at his picture. “Isn’t he adorable? He belongs to my friend Vera. She was on the cheerleading squad with me until she got too pregnant, and then she homeschooled for a semester after he was born. She was going back after summer vacation, we were talking about it when I was visiting them that night.” I pause. “She’s the only person I told about my baby. She was going to give me Henry’s outgrown baby things and we talked about swapping babysitting once my baby came so we could study.”

“Maybe you should stop by and say hi while we’re in town,” Emmett suggests quietly. “You’ve said she wasn’t part of the gossip hungry mob afterwards- maybe you’d like seeing her again and picking up that friendship?”

“You think I need friends?” I ask.

Emmett smiles at me tenderly. “I’ve sometimes seen you watching Alice with Bella or her cheerleader friends and you look a little lonely, that’s all. I know you’ve got Jasper and me – and it’s not that I _want_ to have to share even more of your time with someone else! – but sometimes I think maybe you’d like more girly types of friends. Besides,” he adds, straightening up the picture in the mirror frame and moving on. “I bet that baby’s grown so much since you’ve been in Forks that you won’t even recognise him.”

My heart gives a pang at that, but I don’t say anything. I had adored Vera’s baby from the first moment I saw him in the hospital, and she’d made me a kind of honorary godmother. He would be ten months old now, and completely different to the little four month old infant I’d been snuggling and loving on what I’d come to think of as the last night of my old life.

Emmett meanders on, reading the inscriptions on the trophies, looking curiously at the knickknacks and soft toys and books on my shelves, occasionally picking something up to look at it more closely. When he reaches me he stands still for a moment, looking down at me thoughtfully.

“I’m glad you came with me,” I say impulsively, and I’m rewarded with one of Emmett’s soft, dimpled smiles.

“Me too.” He hesitates, and his gaze flicks quickly to the photos lying in the wastebasket. “He’s going to be in court tomorrow, isn’t he?”

I nod. “Are you okay with that?”

“Oh yeah,” Emmett says quickly. “I mean, it might be hard to restrain myself from jumping the bar and killing him, but Dad had some pretty strong words with me about that…”

I laugh a little giddily. “Don’t do that…he deserves it but I don’t want you going and joining him in jail.”

Emmett looks at the photos again and then back to me, his face serious. “It just feels kind of different now that I know what he looks like.” He shakes his head, a little bemused. “He’s been like a devil in my mind, but now I’ve seen those photos and he’s just a guy…but at the same time I know what he’s capable of, what he did to you…I don’t know.” He pulls me towards him and wraps his arms around me with a sigh.

My phone beeps and I disentangle myself from Emmett’s embrace and read my message. “It’s from dad,” I say. “He says he’s leaving the office in five minutes and he’ll pick up some Thai food on the way home. And since ‘five minutes’ in dad-speak means at least forty five minutes in regular time, we’ve got enough time.”

“Enough time for what?”

“This.” I take Emmett’s hand and steer him towards the bed, unbuckling his belt as I do so and then unbuttoning my jeans and dropping them onto the floor. His hands slide under my t-shirt as he lifts it over my head and I can feel the trail of goose bumps his fingertips leave on my skin. Already my breath is coming faster and the heat of desire is swirling low in my belly, and as the last of our clothes fall away and we tumble backwards onto the bed I give myself over to him and what there is between us.

I go on top, because I like it and I know I’ll get off, but mostly because I want to look at him. I want this image of beautiful, dimpled Emmett sprawled out beneath me on my four poster bed to burn itself into my mind and help obscure the memories of Royce and I here. I want to make love to him and feel the way he makes me feel, so alive and strong and loved, and prove to myself that I have grown since the last time I was here in this bed, broken and frightened and hurt. What we have is so good, so much more than bodies working together to give pleasure…it’s the laughter and gentle kisses and mumbled words of love that help to hold me together, that make me want to wrap my arms around Emmett’s beautiful self and never let him go.


	42. Telling My Story

The hallway outside the courtroom is crowded. The noise and the heat of the crowd, the jostling of bodies indifferent to me is too much, and I turn abruptly and huddle in a corner, trying to breathe deeply and calm myself like Kari taught me to.

Emmett stands before me, his arms braced against the wall on either side of my head to give me a place to hide.

“I don’t…I can’t…” I stutter, suddenly unable even to talk.

“You can,” he says softly. “I know you can. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I don’t want to break down in front of him!” I say passionately. “I’m so scared of that, that I’ll get up there and I won’t be able to talk and I won’t be able to breathe and I’ll cry and, and…and he’ll _laugh_ , because you know they…they laughed, that night, while they were…it’s what I hear in my dreams all the time and I can’t…” My words choke off and Emmett leans forward to press his forehead against mine.

“I really believe you’ll be able to do it,” he tells me soberly. “I do Rosa girl- you think you’re broken but you’re stronger than you know, and you’re capable of so much more than you think. But even if you get to the moment and you can’t do it…it doesn’t matter. The lawyer can submit your statement. If you can’t breathe I’ll hold you until you can, and if you start crying I’ll wipe up your tears until you stop. And then you can get back up and try again if you want, or we can just walk right out of that courtroom and go home if that’s what you want to do. What you’re doing today…this is all just extra. You’ve already survived the worst that he could do.”

I stay out of the courtroom until the last moment. The reality of it, now that I’m here, is almost overwhelming. Dad and the lawyer talk to each other and talk to me, but I let the words wash past me without sinking in as I sit on a hard wooden bench bolted to the floor and try not to shake too visibly. But we can’t put it off forever, and eventually I rise unsteadily to my feet and grip Emmett’s hand as I follow Dad and the lawyer into the courtroom.

Royce is already there, sitting beside a man in a suit I presume is his lawyer. He’s thinner and paler than he was, his dark hair cut shorter. He turns his head when he hears us enter, and for a moment I’m caught in his eyes, that dark and hypnotic gaze that used to have such power over me. For a moment I feel as though I’m reeling, and I freeze, fighting the overwhelming urge to run.

“Rosa girl, come on.” It’s Emmett. “We need to go sit down.” He tugs gently on my hand.

Royce’s eyes flick to Emmett and a muscle twitches in his jaw as he looks back at me. The man beside him looks at me too and says something sharply to Royce, and then both of them turn back to the front.

I take a shaky breath and then pull my shoulders back as I stand upright and look further into the courtroom. I realise that as well as the man in the suit with Royce, his mother is sitting behind him and he is also accompanied by two men in prison guard uniforms, and my cowering sense of fear eases a little. _He can’t hurt me now. He can’t ever hurt me again._ And it’s not just that he is no physical threat either- as I take a seat beside Emmett and the lawyer I can’t stop my eyes from being drawn back to him, surprised at how little emotion the reality of him is raising in me now. It’s the memories that hurt, the remembrance of what he was to me that makes me afraid.

I don’t listen to most of what is said at the hearing. Deliberately I drift inside my own head, my face blank as I let the words wash over me, my hand linked in Emmett’s the only thing grounding me. It’s only when I hear my name called that I blink and begin to take it in.

I look at Emmett, who smiles at me despite the strain obvious on his face, and even though I can’t smile I gently brush my fingers across his cheek as I rise to my feet, and that’s enough to give me strength. _I can do this._ I take the printed out version of my statement and go and sit where I’m directed.

The judge, an older lady with a stern face and stylish, ashy blond hair, gives me a friendly and encouraging smile. “You’ve prepared a victim impact statement? Did you do this by yourself?”

I nod, and swallow hard. “Yes, ma’am. Kari – my therapist- gave me some questions and guidelines to work from, and then I wrote it.” I am glad that my voice, although quiet, is steady.

“Okay then. Whenever you’re ready you can go ahead. If you need to take a break, let us know.” The judge sits back, prepared to listen.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then I begin. “My name is Rosalie Hale and on the 3rd of July, when I was seventeen, I was raped. The assault happened in a local park, when I was walking home from a friend’s house at night. Royce – my boyfriend at the time – and three of his friends took turns holding me down and raping me, as well as beating me. At the end of it I had fractures in my skull, cheekbone and ribs, as well as broken bones in my arm and hand and fingers, a ruptured spleen and extensive bruising and cuts.” I pause for a moment, but when I go on my voice doesn’t falter. “The attack also caused me to miscarry my sixteen week pregnancy and led to a uterine haemorrhage and an emergency hysterectomy.”

Royce isn’t looking at me now.

“Most of my physical injuries have healed by now,” I say softly. “But I’ve been left with scars that mean I can’t even look at my own body now without a constant, visible reminder of what happened. In the long term having my spleen removed has made me more susceptible to illness and infection. Because of the hysterectomy I’m likely to go through early menopause and maybe have hormone issues and other gynaecological trouble. And of course I’m now infertile.”

My hand goes to my hair, and I wrap the end of my braid around my fingers as I go on. “Emotionally…I don’t know that I’m ever going to be healed,” I say quietly. “Before the rape I was just a girl like anyone else- I was a cheerleader, I loved hanging out with my friends and going to parties and going out on dates, I was about to start my senior year of school as cheerleading captain, my grades were good, I was looking forward to all the senior events and then going off to college. I was full of confidence and I thought my future was going to be some wonderful adventure. And then the attack happened…and I lost it all.

“I have panic attacks regularly now, and I suffer from nightmares and insomnia. I feel like I’m always anxious, always on the brink of falling apart. I couldn’t go back to school, knowing that everyone knew what had happened, knowing that all Royce’s other friends would be there and that half of them believed I’d made the whole story up. I moved to Washington, to live with family friends, so my senior year has been at a strange school and having to make new friends.

“But after being attacked by my boyfriend, someone who was supposed to care about me, someone I was supposed to be able to trust…I find it hard to trust people now. I’m constantly on edge about people’s ulterior motives and what parts of their personalities they’re hiding from me. I approach everyone as a potential threat, rather than a potential friend, which makes forming relationships incredibly difficult. I also find it hard to trust my own judgement- after all, I went out with someone who turned on me so awfully, how do I know that the next person I think is okay won’t turn around and do that to?

“Even though I know it wasn’t my fault, I feel guilty about what happened. I feel as though I should have ended the relationship sooner, seen him for what he was, and maybe it wouldn’t have happened. I feel guilty about the impact this had on my brother, who took care of me when I was hurt and has been seeing a therapist because of his own guilt. I feel guilty that he gave up his senior year in the school we’ve been in since freshman year to come with me to Forks. Even though I know it wasn’t my fault, I can’t help but feel dirty and ashamed and not worthy of being loved and cared for, and I fight that every day.

“I get nervous around strangers and groups of people now. Groups of boys…that can make me so scared. Even just all the footballers sitting together at a table in the cafeteria can make me panic, and I have to sit far away from them but somewhere I can still see them. I’d always planned on going to college and living in the dorms, but I can’t do that now because the idea of living with strangers makes me too anxious. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened to me and focus on the future enough to make any decisions about college, so right now it feels as though my whole future is in limbo.

“One of the hardest things for me has been losing my baby,” I say, and this time my voice trembles. “It wasn’t a planned pregnancy, but I knew about her for three months and I’d come to terms with the fact that I was going to be a young mother. I knew my brother would help me, and my high school had a great program for supporting girls with babies to finish high school, so I knew I could do that and then still go to college. Probably part time, so I could be with the baby, but I was still going to get my degree. I’d just do it all with a baby… I knew the baby was going to be a girl, and I’d decided to name her Lily after my mother.” For the first time since I’ve been talking I look directly at Royce. “You killed your daughter, you know.”

His face remains expressionless, but I can’t help but notice his mother cover her mouth.

“I’ve always wanted to have babies and be a mother and make a family,” I say, and I look back at my paper as my eyes swim with tears. “And that effect of the assault has been so hard to deal with…because they took away the baby I was carrying and because of what they did I can never, ever have another one…” My voice breaks, and for a moment I struggle to control myself. _Oh, baby Lily, if only…_

“I’m not the same person I was before they raped me,” I say eventually, and I look out into the crowd and see only Emmett, his dark lashes damp as he watches me intently, his hands steepled under her chin. “Because of what they did I lost friends and all that was familiar, I lost confidence and self-esteem and feel as though my whole future was taken away from me too. I’m in therapy and I’m doing better now, I know that I can work through my issues enough to go to college and get my degree and maybe one day I’ll be able to have a baby through adoption or something, but it’s never going to be easy and it’s never going to be the way I used to think it should be.

“But he didn’t beat me,” I say, my voice steady in the hushed courtroom even though I’m not reading from my papers anymore. “He wanted to control me, to own me…and he used the rape and the assault to punish me when I stepped out of line by getting pregnant and daring to say I was going to leave him. But I’m free now, and I’m learning how to be strong. I’m learning how to love someone honestly and openly, and I’m going to keep on going to therapy until I can do all this without being afraid and then I can take back my life and make a future.”

I look at Royce again, and this time he’s the one who looks away. I half smile, because I can feel the power he and the memory of him had over me beginning to crack. I understand now what Kari meant when she said that making this statement could be empowering. I’ve sat here and I’ve said what I needed to say, I’ve said Lily’s name and I’ve said that she matters. I’ve said that I matter…not just what they did to my body, but what they did to my heart and soul as well, it all matters. It was brutal and it was wrong and no punishment in the world is ever going to make it up to me…but I can still be okay. It doesn’t matter to me what the court does now- just by coming here and facing my demons down I’ve already won.

I go back to my place and Emmett stands up and I am enfolded in his arms, in his warm and strength and love. “I love you,” I murmur, and I don’t even care if he hears me or not.

“So proud of you, Rosa girl,” Emmett mumbles as we sit down, our hands clasped tightly. He looks at me, dimpling with his lopsided smile and I smile back and reach across and brush the tears off his cheeks.

The hearing is nearly over. The lawyers speak, then there’s a break and I walk, hand in hand with Emmett, around the court building while Dad goes and gets a coffee. Before I know it we’re all back in our seats as the judge enters the court to hand down her judgement. I hold Emmett’s hand and concentrate on the feeling of his skin, stroking his roughened knuckles and thinking how he bites them and I play with my hair. I don’t want to be here anymore, I want to be somewhere quiet and alone with Emmett so I can lay my head on his chest and hear his heartbeat and not think for a little while. I barely pay attention as the judge speaks, talking about compensation and punitive damages and sending some scathing words in Royce’s direction. Even though I’m only half listening I don’t miss the reaction of the room when she hands down her judgement. As Dad and the lawyer pack up their papers and make noises of jubilation and Royce slumps down in his seat I just look at Emmett’s hand in mind and try not to think.

The court has found in my favour, and I’ve been awarded damages in the amount of five million dollars.


	43. And Afterward

I feel numb. Mechanically I get to my feet and follow Dad and the lawyer outside, Emmett’s hand on my back guiding me forward. We pause on the steps outside the courtroom and while Dad and the lawyer talk rapidly I stare vacantly off to the side.

_Five million dollars baby Lily…I would still have rather had you._

“Rosalie?”

I look up when I hear my name, and my back stiffens when I see Royce’s mother standing on the steps above me, their lawyer by her side. Mrs King looks like she’s aged twenty years since I saw her last. She was always a thin woman but now she looks gaunt, and even her perfectly coiffed hair and expensively tailored outfit can do nothing to disguise the deep wrinkles in her face and the shadowed bags under her eyes.

“Rosalie?” She looks almost uncertain, and she glances towards my father whom she’s only met a small handful of times. “Mr Hale.”

“Mrs King.” Dad’s voice could cut glass it’s so sharp, and I feel Emmett’s tiny start of surprise behind me. He didn’t know who she was.

“I’m sorry to intrude,” she says softly, and her eyes go back to me. “I wanted to say that I’m glad you’re recovering Rosalie, and I’m…I’m very sorry.”

I say nothing, not because I bear her any real malice but because I simply don’t know what to say. All I can do is stare at her helplessly, and a moment later she takes a deep breath and continues.

“I also wanted to tell you that there will be no appeal,” she says, her voice low. “I will no longer cover Royce’s legal fees with regard to anything involving you…this matter will end now. The money is yours, Rosalie. I know it won’t….well, it can’t make it up to you, but it’s yours and I wish you the best for your future.”

I nod slowly, and she gives me a haunted smile. “I really am terribly, terribly sorry,” she says, and there are tears in her eyes as she turns away. I wonder dully what it must be like for her knowing what the son she raised has become, but I don’t say a word as I watch her walk away.

The lawyer heads off to his next case, and my dad strides off up the street to get to his office. I still haven’t said a word and without much thought I start walking, with Emmett keeping pace beside me.

We walk for well over an hour before we reach home. By that time I’m so cold that my fumbling fingers can’t get the key into the lock, and Emmett gently takes it from my hand and does it for me. “You’ll have to do the alarm code,” he says.

For a moment I don’t think I can remember it, but my shaking fingers move automatically and I turn it off before the alarm starts shrieking. The weight of the day’s events seems suddenly unbearable, and with a tiny exhalation of breath I slump against the wall and slide down it until I’m huddled on the floor.

“Rosalie?” Emmett crouches beside me, his hand stroking my hair and his face taut with concern. “What are you doing? Come on baby…”

The protective numbness is dissipating, and I’m starting to feel again, all the overwhelming emotions of the day pushing into my mind and making my heart pound. I curl tighter into a ball on the parquet flooring of the foyer, my arms wrapped around my head and my hands tangling in my hair as I fight back the waves of hysterical laughter and agonised howling that threaten to overwhelm me.

“Oh shit, Rosa girl, come on…” Emmett sits down on the floor beside me and takes me onto his lap. I feel safer with his arms around me and his broad chest for me to huddle against, but the thread of my control is fraying and I find myself whimpering wordlessly as he hold me.

With some difficult Emmett extracts his phone from his pocket. “Hey Dad…yeah, it’s over…She did it and she kicked ass. She won…five million damages… _I know!_ …She’s not good…I don’t know exactly, she won’t talk…No. I don’t know…okay….Yeah, okay…Later then.”

Emmett shoves his phone into his pocket and then stands up with a grunt, still holding me in his arms. He somehow manages to carry me up two flights of stairs and into my room, where he pulls off my shoes and my coat and then bundles me up in my quilt. Shrugging out of his jacket and kicking off his shoes he sits on the bed and snuggles me, in my fluffy cocoon, against him while his hand gently strokes my hair back from my forehead.

“It’s okay baby,” he murmurs. “Dad said that maybe you’re kind of in shock, and I just need to keep you warm and take care of you. So it’s just you and me now…you do whatever you need to. I’m right here.”

I close my eyes, and as warmth begins to seep through me from the fluffy quilt and Emmett’s arms so tight and strong around me I feel the shivering begin to ease. “Talk to me Emmett,” I whisper. “Tell me something.”

“Tell you that I love you?” he says, and I don’t miss the little catch in his voice. “Tell you how proud of you I was today? Because you’re amazing, beautiful girl, you really are, and you mean the world to me. I can’t even imagine what my life would be like without you now. I hate that the worst thing in your life made the best thing in mine, because it was what happened to you that brought you to Forks and to me.” His lips press against my forehead. “I love you so much.”

I guess the words were what I needed, because the dam breaks and with the most god awful howling wail I start sobbing. I’m crying for everything, for what they did to me and what it’s meant to me and the people I love, because today I stood up and fought back in the only way that’s left to me, and because all the money in the world can’t change the things that I wish I could change. _I wish this had never happened._

Emmett doesn’t try to make me stop. He just holds me and kisses me and wipes my tears away with his shirtsleeves because there aren’t any tissues. He tells me again and again that he loves me, that I’m safe here with him, that I just need to let it out and it will be okay. And in the end, when there are no more tears possible, I close my eyes and sleep, wrapped safe in his loving arms.

I sleep on and off for the rest of the afternoon. Awake I can’t seem to stop crying, not the gut wrenching sobbing of earlier but a gentle, endless, trail of tears down my cheeks. So I wake and weep, and then close my eyes and drift off again, and then do it all again. At some point I swap my dress for some pyjamas and I have a hazy memory of dad coming home with pizza and me refusing to get out of bed, but when I eventually open my eyes for the first time without crying it’s morning.

Emmett is asleep beside me, lying on his stomach with a heavy arm slung across my ribs. Carefully I wriggle out from underneath him, and although he makes a grumbling noise of complaint and gropes blindly for me in the bed he doesn’t wake up. A moment later he sighs and I see him relax deep into slumber again.

I’m hungry. I step quietly downstairs and into the kitchen, surprised to find Dad there, dressed in a suit and eating a bowl of oatmeal while he reads the paper.

“Hi,” I say, pouring myself a drink of juice and wishing Esme was here with her magic frypan to make me some breakfast. Instead I dig through the sachets of flavoured microwave oatmeal and dump some into a bowl.

“Are you feeling better this morning?” Dad sounds almost uncertain.

I nod. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“It was a good result yesterday.” Dad folds up the paper and looks at me.

“I suppose so.”

“It’s a lot of money. You’ll lose a chunk in lawyer fees and taxes, but we can invest what’s left and you’ll be well taken care of. Your own house, travel, adoption…whatever you want, Rose.”

The microwave beeps and I take out my oatmeal and stir it. I don’t want to think about the money now.

“I’m glad you’re doing better,” Dad says abruptly, standing at my side and staring out the kitchen window as he puts his bowl and spoon in the sink. “I know you think I don’t care, and maybe sending you to live with Carlisle and Esme kind of reinforced that…but I didn’t know what to do with you. I didn’t know what I could do to help you.”

My eyes go from my oatmeal to my father, whose hair is looking grey in the pale morning light from the kitchen window and whose face looks suddenly sad.

“It’s okay,” I say after a long pause. “Going to the Cullens _did_ help me. I don’t know that I would have been able to get over it if I’d stayed here…I think I needed to get away.” I believe that what I say is true. Whatever his reasons for sending me to Carlisle and Esme, Dad did the right thing when he packed me off to live in Forks. “Carlisle and Esme have been wonderful. And Emmett…” I can’t talk about what Emmett has come to mean to me.

“He seems like a good kid,” Dad says. “I thought Carlisle and Esme were mad when they took in him and the little girl, but they’ve raised him right and he’s turned out pretty well.”

I almost want to giggle. Dad, commenting on someone else’s parenting? Especially coming after Emmett’s criticism of my dad’s emotional neglect and comparing it to his mother’s effort, it seems almost funny. But I know that in his own bumbling way my dad is trying to connect with me, and I have to appreciate the effort.

“They’re good parents,” I say simply. “And they’ve done a lot for Jasper and I since we moved in.” I take a spoonful of oatmeal and chew it thoughtfully before I say tentatively, “They tell me about Mom sometimes. About when you were in college, and what they remember of her when Jasper and I were little.”

Dad’s face spasms. It’s always hurt him to think about my mother, and he rarely talks about her. I think somewhat irreverently that he could probably do with a good long course of therapy with Kari to get over his issues.

“Your mom would have known what to do,” Dad says quietly. “If she’d still been here when you were hurt, it would have all been different. You know, I’m sorry every single day that she’s gone.”

“I am too,” I say in a low voice, mindlessly stirring my oatmeal. My father has never spoken to me like this, never admitted any uncertainty or regret. I wonder if he might have been like this more often if my mother had lived.

“You look more like her every day,” Dad says, with a sigh. “You’re only a year younger than she was when I met her… She’d be proud of you Rose.” So quickly I barely feel it he reaches across and touches my hair.

I don’t know what to say, and a moment later Dad runs the water into his empty bowl and then lifts his suit jacket from the back of the chair and slides his arms into it. “I’ve got to get to the office,” he says, and I guess our bonding moment is over because he’s all business now as he shuffles through his briefcase and hands me a wad of cash. “Here’s some money for cab fare back to the airport this afternoon. You’re right for the flight? Got tickets and everything?”

“Yes,” I answer, leaving the money on the table and beginning to eat my oats before they get cold. “Thanks.”

“Take care of yourself Rosalie,” Dad says briskly. “Get moving on thinking about college too. I don’t care if you don’t want to go to NYU, but you need to make up your mind about somewhere else. Your mother and I started a college fund for you when you and Jasper were born and all the money you made modelling when you were a child went into it too, so don’t concern yourself about the financial aid aspect- just find a place you want to go and apply!”

“Sure thing,” I mumble through my oats. A pep talk on college from my dad is really not what I need. Of course I’m going to have to get moving on it now that the civil case is over, but considering this is the first time in about twelve hours that I haven’t been weeping it’s expecting a bit much for me to have made up my mind. “I’ll see you…when I see you.”

“I might come to Washington over Christmas,” Dad says, surprising me into silence for once. “I know you and Jasper will want to be there for the holidays, and I’ve never seen Carlisle’s place.” He shrugs and gives me a slightly rueful smile. “I didn’t realise…but it’s been kind of lonely here these past six months with you and Jasper gone. I missed you two.” He pats me on the head and then marches off to the office, leaving me stirring my oats and staring after him. I wonder if people will ever stop surprising me.


	44. Friendship

Emmett’s awake when I go back upstairs, sprawled across the bed and looking at my modelling portfolio which he must have found under the bed.

“What is this narcissistic photo album you’ve got here, Rosa girl?” he asks me with a laugh.

I straddle his lower back, leaning forward to kiss his neck and look over his shoulder. “Don’t be mean,” I pout. “That’s me being a model.”

“Don’t get me wrong- you look freaking amazing,” Emmett says hastily. “I was just surprised to see a whole folder of pictures of you with so much make up and such fancy clothes…or not so many clothes.”

I laugh. “It is a bit pretentious,” I admit. “But when I won the modelling competition these photos were the prize so I did the shoot. I was fifteen and it was kind of fun.” I reach past his shoulder and flip to the back of the book. “It’s not all from then though. These are tear sheets at the back- prints of ads and catalogues and stuff that I did when I was little.”

Emmett chuckles. “Awww, even then you were pretty- you would have thrown sand at me in the playground if you’d met me back then I bet.” He looks closer. “Is that Jasper?” he hoots.

I giggle. “Yes.” It’s the cover of a toy catalogue he’s looking at, which Jasper and I shot when we were about eight years old. I’m wearing an elaborate princess gown and a pirate hat and have a sword stuck through the lacing of the dress like it’s a scabbard. Jasper is wearing the knight’s outfit accessorised with a chef’s hat and offering me a plate of wooden cakes. “That was the last shoot we ever did…it was so much fun. That photo was from the end of the day when we were pretty much done and just playing with the toys…it’s one of my favourites of Jasper and I. It makes me laugh because I was always so bossy- notice I’m the pirate captain princess and he’s my cook! We used to do a bit of work together.”

Emmett flips through the other pages. Some of them are just me, some of them have Jasper and I, going backwards from the last shoot we did when we were eight to the first one, which we also did together when we were about eighteen months old.

“My mom was into the whole modelling thing,” I say slowly, feeling the need to explain. “She used to take us to castings and shoots. I loved it, even as a little kid I was a complete show-off and just soaked up the admiration. We stopped doing it for a little while when she first got sick, and then stopped for good when the cancer came back.” I lie full length along Emmett’s back, balancing my legs on top of his. “I did the modelling competition when I was fifteen because I was just missing her so much…but of course it didn’t bring her back and I don’t really want to be a model. I wonder sometimes if it would be different if she was still around.”

“You’ll drive yourself crazy if you spend too much time thinking about the what-ifs,” Emmett says gently, rolling over and tipping me off so that we’re lying face to face. “I used to do it…what if my Momma hadn’t got involved with the drug dealer who moved in and started cooking meth in our kitchen, what if my grandma hadn’t died and we’d had someone to look after us a bit, what if I hadn’t gone to Esme that day that Alice got sick and got Esme and Carlisle involved in our messy lives…you don’t know how important any little decision is going to be and you can’t spend your life obsessing over what could have been if just one thing had been different.” He kisses me on the forehead.

“I know that,” I say with a sigh. “But my dad was just _nice_ to me when I was having breakfast, I mean he actually _talked_ which is just…wow. It made me wonder how he might have been if my mom was still around. That’s all.”

Emmett kisses me again, and I kiss him back before I feel the portfolio album jabbing me in the back. Rolling over I slide it back under the bed. “At least Jasper and I got paid for all that modelling,” I say, remembering what dad had said. “Mom and Dad put it all our college funds and my dad’s invested it for the last ten years so it’s looking pretty good right now. If I ever get myself together and apply somewhere, I don’t really have to worry about college loans.”

“Really?” Emmett curls up against my back, kissing me across my neck and nibbling on my earlobe. “I don’t know baby, thousands of dollars in college funds, millions of dollars in compensation payouts…people are going to think I’m with you for your money.”

I giggle breathlessly, arching my back and pushing my ass into him. He knows that exact place on my neck that drives me wild. “You gold digger…” I gasp as I feel his cock rapidly hardening and pushing in between my thighs. “Of course, I know you’re only with me for my body…aaahhhh.”

“Your body is certainly a bonus,” Emmett murmurs, still kissing my neck as his hands play teasingly with my breasts. “I really do like it a lot…you might have noticed that…”

“Oh, I noticed something…” There are too many clothes between us, but I’m rubbing against him, stretching my arms behind me and running my hands through his curly dark hair, holding his head close against mine. I moan as his teeth graze across my earlobe. “Emmett…”

“I know, baby, I know…” Emmett kisses back down across my shoulder and back as he tugs impatiently at my clothes, stripping both of us off and then wrapping himself around me. “I love you…oh damn, I want you…”

I squirm back against him until I can feel his hardness nudging up against me. It’s slightly awkward to get the right angle at first, but I hear Emmett’s low groan as I slide back onto him. His head’s on my shoulder and I can feel his warm breath on my ear. We’ve never done it this way, after a couple of freak outs I’ve been wary of sex where I can’t see him, but I can feel his broad, hot chest against my back, his strong thighs shaking against mine as he moves, his muscular arms wrapped around my body, holding me close and fear is the last thing on my mind. It feels like he’s completely surrounding me, and _oh damn_ but he makes me feel good and there’s no one here to listen and no risk of someone coming in… _oh god, Emmett, yes._

We shower afterwards, standing together under the warm spray of water, laughing as Emmett struggles to wash all my long hair for me. Once we’re dried and dressed we gather up our things and Emmett grudgingly eats some microwave oatmeal.

“No wonder you moved in with us,” he says through a mouthful. “If _this_ is all you ever had to eat for breakfast.”

“Sometimes we changed it up with cold cereal,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “And really Emmett, what do you think you’ll end up doing next year without Esme to cook breakfast for you?”

“Pop-tarts and McDonald’s breakfast?” Emmett suggests, and then laughs. “Nah, I’ll manage. I can actually cook you know; Esme likes taking care of us but she also has every intention of having us all leave the house and being competent adults so she made us learn.”

Since I can’t cook beyond microwaving I keep my mouth shut, and once Emmett’s finished with the oats I call a cab and we go downtown.

The trial and my victim impact statement have occupied my thoughts to the exclusion of so much else that I have barely realised how close to Christmas we are, but it’s just over a week and a half away. I haven’t bought presents for anyone, so Emmett and I spend the morning shopping. Emmett attempts to help by offering suggestions but Alice was right- he’s terrible at choosing gifts. It’s something of a relief when I can leave him looking at baseball bats in the sports store and duck away to buy something for him.  

When I come back he’s twirling a bat and talking animatedly with a couple of sales assistants. His ability to get along with everyone and makes friends so easily I something I envy, and I pause for a minute to watch the three of them laughing and making conversation. Thoughtfully I take out my phone, and after only a momentary hesitation I make a call.

Emmett and I take a cab, and it’s only a short time later that we’re standing outside an apartment block. Taking a deep breath I press the buzzer, and a moment later the door swings open and we go inside, picking our way past a stroller and a bike with an attached baby seat in the front hall to knock on the ground floor apartment front door.

My friend Vera opens the door and my breath catches as I look at her, remembering the last time I saw her. “Vera, I’m sorry…” I say awkwardly, tears prickling at my eyes.

There are tears in her eyes too, but a smile splits her face and she throws her arms around me and squeezes tight. “Oh my god Rosalie, shut up…I missed you so much!” And then we’re both hugging and laughing and crying, as Emmett looks on in bemusement.

“Come on in!” she sniffs, pulling on my arm. “God knows what the little booger is up to now, I can’t leave him alone for a minute…” I follow her through the narrow hallway, which opens out into a big kitchen and living area, and immediately see the baby. He’s standing up clutching the sofa, a highlighter pen in his mouth, as he reaches for the book Vera must have left open on the seat.

“Oh no you don’t!” Vera swoops down and pulls the pen from his mouth, eliciting a wail from Henry who immediately plops back down onto his well-padded bottom. “You’re not going to eat Mommy’s homework!”

“He’s so big!” I can’t help exclaiming. “I mean, obviously, it’s been nearly six months…but he’s practically walking!”

“I know!” Vera’s face is glowing as she stoops and picks up the baby who’s now trying to hide behind her leg. “He’s ten months old and he’s crawling so fast now and pulling up on everything- he’ll be walking before I know it.” She kisses his forehead. “Come on Henry, don’t be shy…it’s Rosalie! And…” She raises her eyebrows and looked pointedly from me to Emmett.

I blush. “Sorry! Vera, this is Emmett Cullen.”

The two of them say hi and then we all sit down, Vera and I on the sofa and Emmett in a glider rocking chair. Henry pulls at Vera’s shirt and whimpers until she makes a face at me and unself-consciously latches him on to her breast for a feed.

“Just like his dad, he could eat all day,” she murmurs, smoothing the baby’s hair before she looks at me and smiles. “It’s so good to see you Rose. I missed you so much, I can’t even tell you.”

“I’m sorry,” I say to her sincerely. “I feel awful that I just left without talking to you and never got in touch. But I was just so messed up, and when I refused to go back to school after what happened my dad arranged for me to go and live with the Cullens in Washington. So I basically ran away…and I’m really sorry, because I’ve missed you too.” I blink hard to keep the tears at bay.

Emmett, who has been trying very hard not to look at Vera feeding the baby, excuses himself to go to the bathroom and as soon as he’s gone Vera grins at me.

“You _live_ with him? How does that work? He is so yummy…. God, how embarrassing that I meet your new boyfriend and two minutes later I’m pulling my boobs out! Sorry about that!”

I laugh and look at her affectionately. Emmett was right, I _have_ missed this kind of friendship. “I know, he’s gorgeous…and imagine all that in wrestling spandex.” I giggle as Vera pretends to fan herself, and then say, “And yeah, I live with him…and it’s pretty damn awkward sometimes! His dad, Carlisle, is my dad’s old college roommate, that’s how I ended up there.”

“There’s so much I want to know!” Vera sighs, and then looks at me keenly. “But you’re okay now? I mean, I know what happened, more or less…”

“I’m okay,” I say slowly. “Everything healed, apart from…well, I lost the baby. Obviously. But I had to have a hysterectomy and so…you know. And that’s partly why I never got in touch, too, it was just hard with Henry…which I know wasn’t fair to you and…”

Vera reaches over and pats my knee. “Oh Rose, please don’t worry about it…I know how you felt about your baby and I know how hard that must have been. I’m just really happy that you’re feeling better and back in town.”

“Well, I’m not here for long…” I tell her briefly about the civil case as Emmett walks back into the room and brushes his hand lightly across my head before he sits back down in the armchair.

“Good for you,” Vera says as Henry finishes his feet and pulls himself up to his feet on her lap. Along with his hand-knitted sweater he’s wearing a pair of hand-knitted black and gold elf-slippers on his feet. “Royce deserved a lot more than he got if you ask me, and hitting him in his wallet is really going to hurt.” She nuzzles into Henry’s belly, and he peeks over at me as he giggles.

We spend the hour before we have to go to the airport in Vera’s apartment. She and I have so much to catch up on. We talk, interspersed with tears and hugs and laughter, particularly once Henry gets over his shyness and crawls between the three of us giving each of us toys and smiles.

Henry seems particularly entranced by Emmett. Once he’s past his initial awkwardness about playing with a baby he makes faces and growly noises at Henry so that he’ll laugh, and then lies down on the floor so the baby can crawl over him like he’s a mountain. For a moment my heart aches as I watch him, but I know I can’t let myself dwell. _Look ahead, Rosalie._

I’m reluctant to leave but we can’t miss our flights, so when time runs out I call a cab and then look at Vera.

“Thank you so much for coming,” she said sincerely, handing me her phone. “Put your new number in that so I can call you…I miss you too much Rose!”

I grin and do as she asks, feeling lighter for having come here and made my apologies. Part of me _does_ find Henry’s presence painful, thinking about the way he would have been with my baby Lily, but another part of my heart feels like it’s waking up as I look at him. There is something so pure and innocent about this little baby boy, and loving him feels like of the few unselfish acts I’m capable of.

As the cab honks outside and I give Henry a last cuddle and a kiss on his silky hair, Vera disappears for a moment and comes back holding a small paper bag which she holds out to me.

“I made these that night,” she tells me softly, her voice a little uncertain. “After you told me about your baby I was so excited and I wanted to do something for you. I _know_ how stressful an unexpected pregnancy is,” she looks at Henry, who is chewing on Emmett’s thumb, and laughs, “And I know that people judge, but you wanted your baby and so she should have been welcomed…anyway, I still want you to have them. I don’t suppose you have too many mementoes, and if you don’t want them that’s okay too, but I made them for you…and for her. For Lily.”

This feels almost too big for tears as I open the bag and see the tiny knitted elf-slippers inside, made in the softest purple yarn and lined in turquoise, with little silver bells on the toes and silver ribbons tying them together. A tiny pair of the same elf-slippers Vera knits for Henry, but sized just right for a newborn girl who never grew big enough to wear them.


	45. Awfully Big Things

Esme is waiting at the airport for Emmett and I when we stumble off the plane late that night. She hugs me tightly and it’s not until she releases me and turns to hug Emmett that I realise how much physical touch I have had today, with Emmett of course, but also with Vera and the baby and now Esme…and I’ve shied away from none of it.

“Carlisle was going to come and collect you, but he’s got a patient in labour tonight. Twins, so he wanted to be on hand. How was the flight?” Esme asks, leading the way through the quiet airport to the parking lot, where the remote locks on the Audi beep as we approach.

“Quick,” Emmett says, pausing at a vending machine and digging through his pockets for change.

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter, handing him my spare coins. “You slept the whole time.” I had found myself silently weeping over my little baby slippers for the last hour of the flight and I’ve got a pounding headache and just want to get home.

Emmett takes the Coke from the vending machine and offers me the first sip, but I shake my head. “No thanks. I just want to go home.”

Esme smiles at me sympathetically. “You must be so tired. We’re all so proud of you Rosalie.”

I slide into the backseat, a little surprised when Emmett climbs in beside me. But I’m glad to have him there as we zip along the streets and highways towards Forks, and I snuggle up into him and close my eyes, feeling my headache ease as I relax. Emmett talks quietly over my head to Esme, and listening more to the rumble of his voice low in his chest than to the words, I let myself drift off into sleep.

I don’t know how much later it is when I wake, but there’s nothing but unrelieved blackness out the window and I think we’re probably driving through the forest. Inside the car it’s warm and Emmett is stroking my hair with soothing strokes. I close my eyes again. I’m half asleep when I hear Emmett start talking.

“It was harder than I thought it would be.” Emmett’s voice is low.

Esme makes a sympathetic noise, and a moment later Emmett goes on. “The way he was just sitting there, in his fancy suit with his fancy lawyer, watching Rosa while she talked about how badly he hurt her and how much he’s messed up her life…I wanted to kill him. I could have done it too.  We were all sitting so close that I could have jumped the bar and snapped his neck before anyone could have stopped me. I thought about it.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I’ve never felt like that before.”

“You’ve always wanted to take care of everyone,” Esme says gently. “It’s one of your admirable traits, but you need to remember that you can’t change the whole world Emmett. You know the way your dad and I feel about retribution…”

“An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind,” Emmett recites with a choked laugh, and Esme laughs gently in response.

“I understand your feelings though. It’s very difficult when it becomes personal.”

“It was too personal,” Emmett says softly. “Listening to Rosalie talk to that whole room full of people about what they did to her. Seeing those pictures…I thought I would be able to handle it. But that’s _my_ girl and I’ve seen those scars and I’ve held her when she cries and I know how deep it goes.” Emmett’s voice cracks and I can feel him trembling. “She hurts so much Mom, and I…I don’t know if I can be enough, but…I love her…” And then my big, brave, bear of a man is crying.

 _Oh, Emmett!_ I sit up and cup his face in my hands and kiss away his tears even as my cheeks get wet with my own. “Please don’t,” I choke. “Don’t feel responsible Emmett…you don’t have to do anything for me other than just be you. I love you so much…”

I’ve almost forgotten that Esme is in the front seat and I barely notice as she pulls the car onto the road shoulder. But then she opens the rear door and leans into the car to awkwardly wrap her arms around Emmett and I.

“My boy,” she says into Emmett’s hair as she kisses his forehead, and then she reaches over to kiss my forehead too. “Sweet girl…the two of you have been through a lot together in the past couple of days. You need to go easy on yourselves. You’re dealing with awfully big things for two kids who are still in high school.” She kisses both of us again, and I feel so lucky to have Carlisle and Esme who have opened their hearts to me so completely.

“I’m sorry,” Emmett rubs his face and bites his knuckles. He looks at me anxiously. “I wanted to be there for you, I really did. I’ll always be there for you, even when it’s hard.”

“I know,” I whisper tenderly. “And you were- I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you. But you don’t have to be my saviour _all_ the time.”

Emmett half laughs and half cries, and then I do too. Because Esme’s right and this has all been too big and too intense, when all we should be thinking about is college applications and what we want for Christmas. Esme hugs us again and then gets back into the driver’s seat, and I hold Emmett’s hand very tight for the rest of the way home.

Jasper is on my bed when we finally reach home and I stumble, exhausted, into my room. He’s asleep, a book open on his chest, and when he sees him there Emmett kisses my neck and heads off to his room.

I change out of my clothes, which are creased and have that weird smell of planes about them, and put on my fleece sheep pyjama pants and grey thermal before I crawl thankfully onto my bed. Jasper wakes up as my weight makes the mattress dip, and yawns as he rolls onto his side to look at me.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“Hey,” he says softly. “I guess I fell asleep- I just wanted to see you when you got back and make sure you’re really okay.”

I give a jaw breaking yawn. “Yeah, I’m okay. Glad it’s over, but…okay.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come with you.” Jasper bites his lip. “I feel like I let you down.”

“Don’t,” I say tiredly. “You didn’t, honestly. I had Emmett and…well, in the end I had to do it myself, you know? And I did.” I smile at him. “It turns out that I’m maybe a little bit stronger than I thought I was.”

“More than a little bit.” Jasper reaches out a hand and touches my face. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

I giggle, tiredness making me lightheaded. “Amazing…and now I’m a millionaire too, don’t forget that.” I still can’t comprehend that kind of money.

Jasper snorts with laughter. “I bet Royce was just _furious_ …”

“He was not happy, that’s for sure.” I yawn again. “It’s so crazy though Jasper. I mean, _five million dollars_ ….what do I _do_ with that? I only got so much because he’s so rich, I forget how the judge worked it out but there was an amount I would have got as compensation and then there’s the amount she gave me just to make him feel it. Dad said I’ll lose a bit in taxes and lawyer fees but…I don’t know. I can’t even…” My voice wobbles.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jasper says softly. “Just stick it in the bank when you get it and don’t even think about it now. There are a lot of other things that are more important for you to think about now.”

“Like college,” I say with a grimace. “Dad told me I have to work something out…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jasper says, exasperated. “Is he ever going to lay off? Rose, don’t listen to him about that…”

“No, it’s okay,” I interrupt him. “Unless I want to move back in with him and go to Rochester Community College – which, no thank you!- I’ve got to get off my butt and apply somewhere. And Jas, apart from that particular moment of being an ass, Dad was actually okay while I was there. He was even kind of nice to me, and he said he’s missed us while we’ve been in Forks and he’s going to try and come here for Christmas.”

“Well shit,” Jasper sounds impressed. “Look, I’ll believe it when I see it that he’ll leave the office for long enough to come visit us, but at least the old man made an effort with you.”

“Baby steps,” I say with a sigh, and Jasper chuckles.

“I suppose we have to appreciate the little things,” he concedes with a grin, before he bumps my shoulder with his fist. “I love you, Rosie.”

“I love you too.” I look at his face, angular and shadowed in the glimmer of my fairy lights, and think how much he’s always meant to me over the years. He’s always been mine, and I know I’ve always come first with him. Things are starting to change, with college and separation on the horizon as well as Emmett in the picture, but I know that nothing will ever break the bonds we share.

I fall asleep with Jasper still lying beside me, and sleep through what remains of the night without dreams. When I wake he’s gone, and by the light coming in through the edges of the curtains I guess that it’s about noon. A little surprised no one woke me for school I trail downstairs, through the silent house and into the kitchen. Nothing in the fridge or pantry look particularly appetising, and so with a sigh I pour myself a glass of milk and then take the peanut butter jar and a spoon and slump at the kitchen table.

“Rosalie, you’re up!” It’s Esme, coming in from the garage with her arms full of grocery sacks. “How are you feeling this morning? Ugh, you’re not eating peanut butter with a spoon, are you?”

I don’t answer, since my mouth is currently otherwise occupied sucking peanut butter off the spoon. I just look at her with big eyes, and she laughs gently and shakes her head.

“You and your peanut butter! Oh well, go ahead.” Esme efficiently unpacks the groceries and then a few moments later sits beside me, a fragrant cup of lemon tea in front of her. She sighs and then smiles. “How are you today? You were dead to the world when the others got up for school and I thought you probably needed the rest…I told them to leave you be.”

I shrug a little dismally. The truth is I feel tired and beaten down and discouraged, and oddly on the verge of tears. The civil suit hearing has overshadowed all my thoughts for so long I had expected to feel euphoric once it was over, but the stress seems to have left only depression in its wake. “I thought I’d feel better,” I say to Esme in a low voice. “I thought that once it was over I’d feel like everything has changed…but it hasn’t.”

Esme covers my hand with hers for a moment. “The change is going to come from within you, Rosalie, not from any external factor. And it’s going to be slow, and there will be bad days, but you’ll keep making progress.”

I can’t bear to look into her loving, concerned face, and I lay my head down on the table. “I just built it up in my mind that once the civil action was done it would be all over. That after I stood up in court and told my story and made them see how much it mattered I’d feel so much better,” I whisper miserably. “But I woke up this morning and I was by myself and…I still feel like I did a week ago. I still have to tell myself that he can’t hurt me, tell myself that I’m not so dirty and damaged that no one will ever want me again before I can get out of bed.”

“There are still days when I have to tell myself the same things,” Esme says quietly. “There are still days when I think about my baby dying in my arms and struggle with the unfairness of life. Even after twenty two years I sometimes look at the three children I have and think that there should be another older brother playing baseball with Emmett and chess with Edward and teasing his baby sister Alice. And I might let myself have a little cry about that before I pick myself up and go on again because that’s what we have to do. It’s not always a matter of ‘getting over it’ so much as it is learning to live with it.”

I sigh and drink the last of my milk. “I know you’re right, of course. But it’s hard.”

“It is,” Esme agrees. “And it’s _not_ fair that it has to be like that. But all we can do is try and focus on what is good in our lives and what makes us happy.”

 _If I grow up to be like you, I think that would be a good thing._ I think Esme is one of the strongest and most gracious women I’ve ever known. “You’re a good mom,” I say awkwardly. I hope she understands what it is I want her to know, and when she leans across and kisses my forehead I know that she does.

“Thank you,” she says simply, and then goes back and sips her tea while I lick the spoon clean of the sticky peanut butter and turn my thoughts to the future.

 


	46. Exposure

The following day I feel the change in the atmosphere at school when it happens. I have gym class first and the only thing that’s out of the ordinary there is that when I team up with Emmett for badminton he begs me to put in some effort because he wants to win, and I oblige him and actually try. The two of us dominate, and as I walk off the court at the end of the session the coach shakes his head at me.

“I’d like to see a bit more of that kind of effort from you, Rosalie,” he says. “You are clearly capable of a lot more than the C you’re currently sitting on for this class and it would be good to see you achieve it!”

I roll my eyes when he can’t see. As if I care if I get a C in this stupid mandatory senior gym class. Last year I made it the national cheerleading titles…I’m athletic enough at anything that matters to me.

I go and shower quickly, braiding my hair and hating that it’ll be damp for the rest of the day and that my locker will be full of sweaty gym clothes and sneakers that will leave a smell long after I’ve taken them home to wash. I’m thinking about this when I leave the gym and walk quickly into the main building, but almost immediately I become aware that there’s something different. Eyes that follow me, whispers that start up as I pass by, conversations that come to a sudden halt as I come within earshot…there’s something going on.

There’s no one I can ask though. I’ve made no friends outside of the Cullens, and I sit in my next class feeling my skin prickle with unease and my ears burning as I hear the whispers behind me. _They’re talking about me._

I bolt from the room when the bell rings, not waiting for the teacher to dismiss us. I have to find Jasper. But when I round the corner to his locker I see him coming towards me with rapid strides, Alice skipping at his side to keep up.

“What’s going on?” I demand. My gaze flicks from Jasper to Alice, the gossip queen- if anyone knows what people are saying about me it will be her.

“Don’t freak,” Jasper says, but there’s an edge of desperation in his voice that only ramps up my anxiety. “It’s not a big deal, it doesn’t have to be…”

“They know,” Alice says simply. “There’s a news article online about the civil case and your settlement. A lot of feminist blogs are talking about it actually. I guess someone here at school found it and started spreading the news around. Then of course everyone had to google for any other details, and…”

“They found everything else online,” I finish numbly.

Alice nods and says reluctantly, “Yes. One of the girls on the squad sent me an email that’s going around, and it has a lot of links…I didn’t click on them, I don’t want to see that but…”

I think I’m going to be sick as I remember all the online news articles from when I was attacked, and then that horrible anonymous blog that said all those awful things and had all those _pictures…_ I back away from Jasper and Alice as the panic starts to suffocate me, because this was always my worst nightmare. That people at school would see those photos of me at my most vulnerable, that they would know all the ugly, sordid details and that they’d be talking and whispering and judging me… “No,” I say flatly. “No, they can’t.”

“It’ll be okay Rose,” Jasper says. His eyes are creased with anxiety as he holds his hand out to me. “Come on, we’ve got math next, I’ll be with you. It doesn’t matter what they know…”

Alice’s iphone is still in her hand and I snatch it from her and open her email with a shaking hand. It’s the first email, forwarded by one of her friends who got it from someone in their English class who got it from someone in the football team who got it from… I bite my lip to stop myself from screaming as I read it.

_Omg, check this out! Rosalie Hale just got a compensation payout of FIVE MILLION dollars!!! She says she was raped and beat up- found this blog with loads of gory details and some very NSFW photos! This whole story is insane!_

I can’t breathe, but this time it is because the panic is being subsumed by rage. _How dare they?!_ How could anyone take something so brutal and dehumanising and treat it as nothing more than an excuse for a good gossip? For six months I have struggled against feelings of powerlessness and shame, terrified of people knowing and seeing in me the weakness and vulnerability that Royce and his friends had forced upon me, and now it’s all spilling into the open. Now they know, now the whole story is there and I’m naked and exposed again…but I’m not helpless. I have done nothing wrong, and I _will not_ let them make me a victim again.

I’m clenching my jaw so hard that it hurts, but I force myself to take a deep breath as I raise my head and gaze proudly at Jasper and Alice. “ _I don’t care,”_ I say through gritted teeth. “I’ve done nothing wrong, and fuck _anyone_ who is going to try and make me feel bad about anything!”

Alice grins, her eyes glowing and then she gives me a sudden and impulsive hug. “You’re a rock star Rosalie!” she exclaims gleefully. “Just keep holding your head up and spitting fire out of your eyes like you’re doing right now and no one will say a word to you!”

Jasper looks a little more doubtful, but he smiles at me tentatively. “That’s cool…but I can take you home if you want to get away, wait til it blows over a bit. You know gossip doesn’t last long.”

I wonder how long gossip involving teen pregnancy, rape and assault from a school’s golden boy and then a five million dollar civil suit _will_ last…I suspect it has a little more staying power than someone hooking up with someone else’s boyfriend at a party. But I give Jasper a grim smile. “I’m staying at school. I mean it Jasper, I’m so fucking sick of running and hiding….yeah, it happened and it was shit, but it was NOT my fault and I won’t be ashamed anymore.”

“Good girl,” Alice says approvingly. “Now, you just keep telling yourself that and you’ll be fine. I’ve got to go to history.” She blows us a kiss and darts away.

“Okay Rosie,” Jasper says with a grin. “Let’s go…and I pity the next person who says a word to you! Just don’t go and punch anyone this time please!”

I flip my braid resolutely over my shoulder and stalk towards the math classroom, Jasper at my side. We’re the last ones there, and the room falls silent as I stop just inside the door. I know by the way they all stare at me, many of them flicking their eyes guiltily back to the phones clutched in their hands and shared between them, that they all know and that the email and links that I saw on Alice’s phone have made their way through most of the senior class. For a moment I wish I _could_ punch someone.

“You can all stop gossiping and speculating, because it’s all true,” I say fiercely. “If you have to spread stories around, then at least make sure you’ve got it right…I was pregnant, and then I was raped and beaten until I nearly died, and three days ago I took the bastard to court and they awarded me five million dollars in compensation. Whatever shit you read online about me setting him up or whoring around or it all being a lie you should ignore, because I have never said anything about it that wasn’t the truth. And I know there are pictures online, but if you’re disgusting enough to want to jerk off to photos of someone being raped you’ll be joining Royce in jail for looking at them, since I was only seventeen then and that makes it technically child porn.” 

“Excellent point, Miss Hale.” It’s the math teacher behind me.

With a last defiant glare around the class I sit in my seat, slamming my books down onto the desktop and then turning my attention to the teacher, who is looking at me with a look of respect.

“Thank you Miss Hale,” he says, his eyes sweeping across the class. “I would also like to add that the viewing and passing along of child pornography is a felony, and I for one will have _no_ _hesitation_ in calling in the authorities if I should have even the slightest _inkling_ that anyone in my classroom could be said to be involved in it. So I suggest you all think very hard about whether you feel gossiping about an appalling event in a classmate’s life is worth that kind of consequences. Books out please, page one hundred and eleven.”

My anger and pride keep my head up and my face serene, but inside I’m shaking. I know my outburst will make it around the school in record time, and I hope it is enough to put an end to the more outrageous and salacious rumours and speculation. After all, I think wryly, why make it up when the truth is dramatic enough?

I can’t take the cafeteria though. I’ve held it together through my classes, but I can’t sit in the cafeteria for forty five minutes with everyone looking, and I don’t trust myself not to break if someone speaks to me. I text Emmett and when he meets me at the door of my history class he takes one look at my face and wordlessly grabs my hand. The two of us run through the rain and take refuge in the Volvo.

“You want me to take you home?”

“No.” With our breath misting up the windows and the rain coursing endlessly down the glass it feels like we’re in our own little world. “I just need a moment.” I pause and then say. “You know then?”

“Gossip of the day? Oh yeah, I know.” Emmett bites his knuckles and looks at me with love. “Straight after I left gym I had several people wanting to fill me in on my girlfriend’s scandalous history.”

“What did you do?”

Emmett shrugs, and then gives me his irrepressible grin. “I told them I knew, and that now you’re a millionaire you’re going to buy me a Lamborghini for Christmas.”

I stare at him for a moment and the laughter bursts out of me. It finishes with tears, but only for a moment and I wipe my eyes and lean back in the seat feeling all my tension and rage and hurt dissipate. _You are always so exactly what I need._

“Lamborghini, huh?” I say lightly. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“I heard about you telling them all off too,” Emmett goes on. “It stopped a lot of rumours in their tracks, I can tell you that. And the child porn bit…well, I have to admit that there are a lot of guys who would give their balls to get a look at you naked, but most of them are just horny and not actual assholes so they don’t really want to go there now.” He smiles at me tenderly and reaches across to rub my cheek. “You did good, baby. I know it would have been really hard, but you owned it.”

I turn my head and kiss the palm of his hand, and then lean back in the seat and sigh, closing my eyes. “I really hate that anyone can google my name and that’s what comes up. Colleges google applicants, when I apply for a job they might search online…it’s never going to go away.”  I feel very, very tired.

“I don’t know,” Emmett’s voice is quiet. “Maybe not. But anyone who matters will see it for what it is- a hideous violation that has nothing to do with whether you should be accepted at college or be able to do a job or whatever, and they’ll pay it no mind. As for anyone who _does_ make a fuss or treat it like it’s gossip…well, fuck them.”

“I never thought my life would turn out like this,” I say dully. “I was always ‘the girl mostly likely to succeed’…and now look at me.”

“I do look at you,” Emmett says intently, and I can feel his warm breath on my face as he leans closer. “I look at you every day Rosa girl, and I see how beautiful and smart and fierce you are and I thank god that in this whole wide world you’re here with me.” His lips touch mine, soft and sweet. “And you’re going to succeed in whatever it is you decide to do, I believe that. I’d bet my life on it in fact…whatever else goes down in your life you’re going to come through it and come out on top.”

I lean into him and kiss him, feeling his hands in my hair holding me against him as he kisses back, and then his arms wrap around me and he holds me while I watch the endless fall of rain outside.


	47. Talking Things Through

Emmett walks me to Kari’s house when we hear the distant bell signalling the end of our lunch period. I wouldn’t usually see her today, but she’s given me an extra appointment since I missed one while I was in Rochester. I’ve spoken to her on the phone to fill her in on the hearing, but she’s very anxious that I be given the chance to ‘debrief’…whatever that means she wants me to do.

“What class are you skipping now?” I ask. “Carlisle and Esme will kill you if it’s something important. You don’t have to walk with me you know.” The strength with which I’m gripping his hand probably doesn’t do much to convince him I don’t need him though.

“It’s okay,” Emmett says cheerfully, holding the umbrella over us. “Only a study period. And who cares about school now, I’ve been accepted to college and I’m going to play baseball…damn I can’t wait for spring!” He glares balefully at the sleeting rain.

“You’ll care, when you don’t graduate and they take your scholarship away,” I say to him, but I’m just teasing and Emmett responds by tipping some icy water from the umbrella on to my head so that we’re both laughing when we get to Kari’s front door.

Kari opens the door before I knock, a welcoming smile on her face. “Hey, I thought I heard you out here,” she says. “You must be Emmett? It’s good to meet you.”

Emmett grins his dimpled grin and shakes Kari’s hand as they chat briefly. He then turns to me and unselfconsciously kisses me, brushing the hair back from my forehead as he says, “Okay then?” I nod, and he winks at me and says, “I’ll see you when you’re done then,” as he bounds down the steps.

“You can take the umbrella!” I call after him, but he just raises a hand and starts jogging.

I follow Kari into her study and sink into an armchair with a sigh, as she digs through her desk for a notebook and a pencil. When she’s found them she sits opposite me and grins. “So that’s Emmett? It was nice to finally meet him after hearing so much about him.”

I flush slightly with embarrassment, remembering everything I’ve ever told her about Emmett. “He just walked me here from school.”

“How did things go between the two of you while you were in Rochester? The court case must have been an incredibly emotionally draining experience for both of you, especially considering your ages and that it’s a relatively new relationship.”

“It doesn’t feel new,” I say honestly. “But I know what you mean…he found it harder than he expected, listening to me in court and seeing Royce. Emmett wants to fix everything. It’s not always easy for him to just be with me and wait for me to make myself better, you know? The thing is he _does_ make it better all the time, just because he’s my best friend and he loves me, but he doesn’t always see it as enough. Not when he would have rather gone all assassin on Royce’s ass!” I laugh weakly. “I was so glad that he was there though, I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

“How are you doing now?” Kari asks. “Do you feel as though you’re coming to grips with the outcome of the hearing?”   

I shrug. “I guess. It’s hard because it changes everything…and at the same time it changes nothing, you know? I won and they’re making him pay financially for what he did to me, but it’s not as though the money itself is going to take the nightmares away or take away that horrible scar.”

“That’s true,” Kari says, “But you’re doing a pretty good job yourself at dealing with the emotional impact of the attack. Have you considered seeing if there is something that can be done about the scar?”

I touch my breast self-consciously. “I want to. I’m never going to be able to look at it without hating it and even though Emmett doesn’t care it’s not about him- I want to be able to look at my own body without seeing that ugly reminder. Surgical revision will still leave scars, but they won’t be…well, it’s not going to be a freaking bite mark, you know? It will be a smaller, neater surgical scar and that has to be better than this. Carlisle knows a good plastic surgeon and he asked him about me, but he said for this kind of scar he’d prefer to leave it for a year and see how it ends up before he makes a plan. So for the time being I’m using three kinds of scar minimisation cream on it and just trying not to look at it.” I sigh.

Kari nods and flips through her notes before she asks, “How do you feel about the civil suit and Royce now that it’s over? I know you were anxious about presenting your victim impact statement with him there.”

“It’s funny,” I say slowly. “Seeing him again wasn’t anything like I was afraid of. He used to have such power over me…that sounds crazy to say about your boyfriend, but it’s the only way to describe it. I was completely obsessed with our relationship, with his moods and preferences and likes and dislikes. My whole world centred on him, and by the end I never even thought about whether or not I was happy or what I wanted. But then in court I looked at him and it was all different.” I look up at Kari, hoping she understands. “He was just…just a guy. He couldn’t do anything to make me feel any way I didn’t let myself feel. I didn’t have to be afraid anymore that what I was going to say would make him angry, I could say whatever I wanted to him when I was up there or I could ignore him completely…but I could make the choice.”

Kari smiles at me. “That’s wonderful to hear. I’m really pleased for you Rosalie. It really sounds like you’re taking back that power he had over you.”

“I guess I am,” I say thoughtfully. “I don’t want to be a victim anymore…it’s not as easy as just saying it, but I’m trying.” I look out the window for a minute. “You were right about it being empowering,” I go on. “Today at school…well, someone found out about the hearing and then searched online for more details and came across pretty much everything. The whole story is being spread around the school, rumours and gossip and innuendo and all. And when I first found out, I nearly started panicking. It’s everything I was afraid would happen- all the staring and the whispering, knowing that people are looking at me and instead of seeing me as I am they’re seeing the horrible photos that Royce and his friend took and seeing me as the helpless victim…I wanted to run away but then, I don’t know…I thought about it and I just became so angry. I _don’t_ want to run away anymore. I _don’t_ want to hide in shame over something that wasn’t my fault.”

“And you shouldn’t have to,” Kari says gently.

“I got really mad,” I admit to her. “I stormed into my math class and told them all that it was true that I was raped and given five million dollars in compensation, and that they were disgusting for wanting to look at photos of it and they’d end up in jail because I was only seventeen then and it counts as child porn.”

Kari laughs huskily. “How did that make you feel? Telling everyone the truth like that, and stopping the rumours in their tracks?”

I think for a moment. “It made me feel strong,” I say quietly. “Talking about it- giving my statement at the hearing and then shouting at everyone in math – it makes me feel strong.”

“Perfect,” Kari says. “It should, because you _are_ strong. It doesn’t mean you have to tell everyone about your past, but it does mean that it’s not waiting like a bear trap to catch you unaware. If people do find out and raise the subject with you, you know you can deal with that.”

“I realised I’m going to have to learn to,” I say to her. “Just because I don’t go around telling everyone doesn’t mean I can keep it a secret because it’s all out there on the internet. The most basic google search of my name brings up all the details. That’s not going to go away.” I pause. “Unless I change my name.”

“Well, that’s an option,” Kari says. “Have you done an online search of your name to see what comes up?”

I shake my head. “Not since…right after. When I came home from the hospital I opened up my inbox and it was full of emails from my so-called friends wanting to know what had happened, and telling me what they’d heard and sending me links to things they’d found online. I looked and saw the photos and read a little bit of what was being said and that was it. I deleted my facebook and email and twitter and Instagram accounts and didn’t talk to anyone.”

Kari nods. “Understandable in the circumstances. But not everything someone would find about you online is negative. There are several feminist blogs and rape support websites that are talking about your case and the settlement…perhaps when you’re ready we can take a look at some of them. I think you’d find it interesting. The statistics for how rape is dealt with in this country are absolutely abysmal- did you know that only 40% of rapes are reported to police? Considering that only 10% of rapists are arrested and only 3% will ever serve jail time it’s not surprising that many women choose not to go through the ordeal of a legal battle. And when 1 in 6 women will be the victim of a rape or an attempted rape, that’s a _lot_ of rapists getting away with it.”

“I had no idea,” I say in shock.

“It’s a travesty. The ugly truth is that it was probably because you were beaten nearly to death that your case went to the DA,” Kari says flatly. “Had they not done that it would have been much more difficult to get a conviction. But you did get them convicted, and then you pursued further legal action to get a monetary settlement and you won…that kind of victory is incredibly important in the fight against rape culture. Your story is going to be very inspiring to a lot of other women in a similar situation, Rosalie.”

I shift in my seat a little uneasily. “I didn’t know that.” The idea of being an inspiration to anyone seems preposterous- me? With my nightmares and freak outs and endless tears?

Kari smiles at me. “It’s okay. It’s not something you need to worry about. Although since we’re on the subject of talking about your experience, I hope you’ll consider joining the rape survivor support group I’m organising. It’s going to be run out of the community room at the library after school.”

“A rape support group?” I say sceptically. “That sounds like a barrel of laughs.”

“A lot of women find it helpful,” Kari says. “Rape can make girls feel very isolated from their peers – I guess you know that – and for some of them having a safe place to talk about their rape and share experiences with others can really help them.”

“There are enough girls in Forks who’ve been raped to set up a group?” I ask quietly. It’s both horrifying and comforting to think that there are others out there like me, living every day in the aftermath of that violation.

Kari nods. “Yes. I see the ones who make it to the hospital and the police give out my card to anyone that comes in to the station to make a report, but there are a lot of others out there. Some of them come to me for individual therapy, but many of them have no real support. I’ve got funding to run a group for a few months and I’m hoping it will be worthwhile.”

“And you think I should go to it?”

“I’d really like you to be involved. You’ve made fantastic progress on being able to talk about what happened to you and I think you might find a lot of comfort in being with others who’ve experienced sexual assault too. Listening to their stories can help you see how common it is, how it can happen to anyone and that it isn’t your fault. You can see how others deal with some of the issues you face, and how they are rebuilding their lives.” Kari gives me a warm smile. “You’ve fought a good fight Rosalie. You’re strong and you should be proud of what you’ve achieved, even though it’s not over yet. I think you could gain a lot from a support group, and I think you could _be_ a good support for others.”

“Does it mean I wouldn’t have to have any more therapy?” I ask hopefully.

“Nice try!” Kari laughs, her eyes crinkling in amusement. “I think you and I have still got a bit of work to do Rosalie.”

“Damn,” I say lightly, but I’m not upset. I know that there’s still a lot I can talk to Kari about, still a lot of ways I can grow stronger and more self-assured by working with her.

“So you’ll come?” Kari asks, going to her desk and shuffling through the piles of paper. Finding what she’s looking for she turns and passes me a yellow pamphlet and a thin, stapled booklet. “That’s got the details about the group I’m starting up here. The booklet is something we put together for the last group like this I ran, back at my last job- it just explains a little about the aims of the support group and the kinds of things we’ll talk about…support groups tend to develop their own particular vibe, but this would be our jumping off point. As I said, I’d really like you to be involved Rosalie.”

 A big part of me doesn’t want to. I’ve held this jagged, ugly secret close for so long, and being able to open up about it has only been recent and is still so difficult. I feel sick with anxiety at the thought of opening up to a group, of having to hear their terrible stories and empathise with their pain. But I can’t deny that talking has helped me, and that Esme sharing the story of her abusive relationship allowed me to feel less alone when I needed that. Maybe this group will be like that too. “Okay,” I say at last. “I’ll try it.”


	48. More Than Just A Broken Shadow

The nightmares come back that night. I wake with my heart pounding, the quilt wrapped around me as I scream into the pillow. At least this time I don’t wake anyone.

Shivering as my sweat-damped pyjamas meet the cool night air I hurry down the hallway to Emmett, slipping under the quilt and huddling up against him. With a happy growl he rolls towards me and wraps his arms around me.

“Hey baby,” he mumbles. “This is a nice surprise.”

I bury my face in the curve of his neck, feeling the dampness of my tears smearing across his skin. “I love you.”

Emmett makes crooning noises as he kisses me, raising my face to his and using his thumbs to wipe away the tears. I love the way he’s so sleepily affectionate, and I take a shuddering breath and snuggle against him as I relax.

“More nightmares?” he asks gently.

I nod. “I haven’t dreamed at all since the court case. I thought, maybe they’d gone away…” My voice trails away, disappointed.

“One day.” Emmett’s hand traces circles on my back. “They’re not as often as they were when you first moved in, are they?”

“No,” I shake my head. “It used to be nearly every night.” I kiss the hollow of his throat and the familiar heat and pulse of desire flares low in my belly. God, I love him and what he can do to me!

“Mmmm,” Emmett sighs blissfully and the circles he’s making on my back dip lower, until he’s caressing me over the curve of my ass.

“I’ve got to tell you something,” I say quietly.

Emmett’s hand stops moving. “What?”

I take a deep breath. “I applied for college tonight. That’s why I didn’t come downstairs and watch the dvd with the rest of you. I was doing the online application.”

“Who are you and what have you done with the Rosalie Hale I know?” Emmett laughs, but I can hear the thread of unease underlying his amusement. “Baby, I had no idea you’d made up your mind…what happened?”

I shrug. “I have to do something next year. Going back to Rochester made me realise that it really doesn’t feel like home anymore. And even though I love it here, this isn’t really home either…”

“It is,” Emmett says fiercely. “You know Carlisle and Esme love you, and they would want you to consider this home for as long as you need. Forever.”

“Maybe,” I acknowledge with a sigh. “But I can’t see just staying here doing nothing while you and Jasper are away at college and Alice and Edward finish high school. I don’t think that would be…good for me. I mean, this house and your family have been a lifeline for me since I got hurt. You’ve all given me a place to be safe and taken care of while I tried to put myself back together again, and that’s been wonderful. But at some point I’m going to have to leave the nest and learn to take care of myself.”

“So where did you apply?” Emmett’s voice is very quiet.

I know this will be the hardest part. “University of Washington. Seattle.”

Emmett rolls away from me. “That’s not exactly that close to Oregon State.”

“Four hours and six minutes’ drive according to Google maps,” I say. I feel Emmett shake with a brief laugh, but he doesn’t say anything. “That’s close enough to see each other on the weekends,” I say tentatively. “If you want to.”

“Christ!” Emmett rolls back towards me and pulls me into a crushing hug. “If I _want_ to? Baby, I’m sulking because I won’t have you every single _day._ Of course I’ll want to see you on the weekends!”

“I thought about Oregon,” I say in a rush. “I really did. It would be so much easier to be there with you and have you to rely on. But I don’t want…it wouldn’t be good for me to be reliant on you. I gave up too much of myself when I was with Royce, and even though you’re nothing like him I’m scared that maybe there’s something about _me_ that made me do it, and that I risk doing it again. I think I need to go somewhere where it’s just me, so I can prove to myself that I’m strong and that I’m going to be okay even if I’m by myself.” I feel like I’m stumbling over my words, groping for the right words to explain this thing that is so important to me. _Please, please understand this!_ “Does that make sense?”

Emmett sighs heavily, relaxing his grip on me a little. “Yeah. It does.”

“I love you,” I say quietly a moment later, tracing the lines of his abdomen so I don’t have to look him in the face. “Whatever this crazy thing is between us I feel like I belong with you, and I want to be with you so much that sometimes it scares me. But I fell in love with you when I was so broken and damaged that sometimes I don’t even trust what I feel, and I need to know that this is real. I think going to different colleges next year will give us both the chance to be sure of each other and know that we will make it work no matter what.” There’s a long silence. “Please say something,” I say, feeling half panicked. “Please tell me you at least understand where I’m coming from.”

“I understand,” Emmett says in a low voice. “I don’t necessarily _agree_ though! Fuck Rosa girl, I’d marry you tomorrow and swear my life to yours if you’d say yes! I have never been as sure of anything in my life as I am sure that we belong together. This _is_ real- I love you and all I want is to make you happy.”

I can feel the thud of his heartbeat under my cheek as I rest my head on his chest. He would _marry_ me? I smile, knowing he can’t see, and lace my fingers through his. “I want that Emmett, I do…but I want it to last. I want to know that I’m giving you the best I can, not just a broken shadow of what I can be, you know?”

Emmett groans as he buries his face in my hair. “I know, I understand…but I love you just as you are, all your scars and your trust issues and everything. I love you and I want to be with you…although I know you’re probably right. Fuck, you’re eighteen and I’m nineteen. We’ve got plenty of time for forever…but I know I’m never going to want anything else but you and me.”

I raise my face so I can catch his lower lip in mine, sucking on it gently before I nip lightly and release him. “I can’t believe that six months ago I barely even knew you existed,” I whisper. “This has just happened so fast Emmett.”

“Crazy fast,” Emmett agrees, kissing me across my face and over to my ear. “I just think I’m so lucky to have you…please promise me that this isn’t just a ploy to break up with me without coming out and saying so.”

I think he means to sound careless, but I hear the fear that underpins his words and I know that if I have trust issues, Emmett has more anxiety than most surrounding the idea of abandonment. “No!” I say fiercely. “Not at all. Remember, way back you told me not to mess you around…I don’t play games Emmett. Not anymore. I say what I want…and what I want is you. Us. Together.”  

 He kisses me and I kiss him back, deep and slow, before I pull away. “Four hours is nothing,” I say hoarsely, reaching into his pyjama pants and grasping his penis in my fist. “We can see each other every weekend, and during the week we can talk on the phone and text and video chat.”

Emmett whimpers as I move my fist and tease him with my fingers. “It’ll work out,” he gasps. “But it won’t be as good as having you just down the hall and sneaking into my bedroom at night to do _this_ …” He groans and I hold my hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.

“But think of the weekends,” I say, kissing my way up his chest to claim his mouth. “Think of not having my brother in the next room.”

His laugh ends in a moan before he flips me over on to my back and nuzzles into my neck. Stripping off my pyjama pants he pushes his thighs in between mine, spreading my legs open with his knees as he tugs my top over my head and tosses it away. Now it’s my turn to whimper as he teases me with a finger on my clit and the head of his penis nudging at my entrance but going no further. In the short time we’ve been having sex he’s gained a lot of control over himself; even when I squirm underneath him and grab his hips to bring him closer, desperate for him to thrust into me and fill this aching need, he continues to rub his fingers and cock against me until I arch my back and grab at the sheets beneath me as I orgasm.

Emmett doesn’t wait for me to finish before he grunts and drives into me. I can’t stop my noise as he thrusts into me and I feel my pulsing, contracting muscles gripping him. The sensation is so intense I can think of nothing but the pleasure of it washing over me in waves as he rides me until he comes, burying his face in my hair as his hips jerk before he lies still.

My overheated, over-sensitive body is still quivering and twitching, and I hear Emmett’s low moan as I clench around him. Better than Kegels anytime, I think with a grin, as I squeeze my muscles again just to hear him whimper with the pleasure of it. I love the feel of him sprawled over me like this, warm and solid, the two of us still joined as ragged breathing and thudding heartbeats settle back to normal rhythms.

Emmett rolls off me and I feel cool air on my sweaty skin before he drags the quilt back over the two of us. “Stay with me tonight?” he asks quietly.

I curl my back into his chest and he slings an arm over me, his hand stroking my breast as he kisses my neck. Both of us are sweaty, groins damp and sticky after what we’ve just been doing, but I don’t care as I wriggle closer to him. I’m never so relaxed as I am after sex with him.

“I’ll miss you so much,” Emmett mumbles.

I take his hand and bring it to my mouth so I can kiss his knuckles, feeling the roughness of his skin over the hard bones. “College is still a long time away,” I tell him softly. “And it’ll be fine, seeing each other on weekends for a year or so. We’ll still have summers together…and course credits will transfer.”

Emmett laughs quietly. “And in the meantime we’ll have this.” He kisses my shoulder and strokes my face and, held close in his embrace, I drift off to sleep.

Saturday morning I drive out to La Push. The Camaro is going beautifully, and when I drive past Jacob Black and some of the other guys playing basketball I lean hard on the horn and wave, although I don’t stop.

Leah lets me in at the Clearwater’s house, leading me through to the kitchen where she is painstakingly constructing a gingerbread cottage. I take a couple of the candies she’s using for decoration, yelping indignantly as Leah slaps my hand, and suck on them as  watch her work.

“I had no idea you were such a baking artiste,” I say, impressed.

“Mom wants it for the Christmas party up at the hospital,” Leah says, adding frosting tiles with a steady hand. “And you really have no idea of my vast range of skills.”

I laugh, and swallow the candy with a sudden attack of nerves. “Do you still think you’ll be looking for a roommate in Seattle come September?”

Leah outlines the window frames. “I might be. What can you offer?”

“Well, I’ve got five million dollars coming my way so you know I’ll be able to pay the rent,” I say drily, and Leah laughs.

“That’s a solid point in your favour. What else?”

“Not much,” I admit. “I can’t cook, I have a lot of nightmares that tend to wake me up screaming and wake everyone else around me up, and Emmett will come and stay on quite a few weekends.”

“That’s okay,” Leah says. “I _can_ cook, I sleep through anything, and Boo Boo will be around some weekends too…what’s an extra animal here and there?”

I start grinning. “I wake up early and work out to pop and dance music.”

“I stay up all night watching horror movies and sleep in.” Leah starts adding the candy to the gingerbread house. “Sounds like we’ll get on like a house on fire.”

I laugh and take some more candy. “So you really want to live together?”

“Sure,” Leah looks up at me and grins. “It’ll be just like the Barbie dream house. Are you bringing the pink convertible and the hot tub?”

I roll my eyes and flick a chocolate button at her. “Ha ha ha. You have to stop calling me a Barbie doll when we move in together.”

“So you applied to UW in the end?” Leah asks.

I notice a plate of gingerbread off-cuts and start eating those. “Wow, you really _can_ cook…this is good. And yeah, I applied to UW. Made the application deadline by about half an hour…I’m glad it was a late one.” I hesitate. “I’m not exactly pumped about college in a lot of ways. I mean, the idea of being away from Jasper and Emmett and this home I’ve found with the Cullens kind of scares the shit out of me to be honest.”

Leah gives me a sympathetic look. “Change scares everyone. You’ve got more issues than most, but you’re not alone in finding the idea of going away to college and being an adult to be an intimidating one.”

She’s right, I think as I chew thoughtfully at the gingerbread. Jasper and Emmett will have to adjust to being away too, learn how to be independent away from family. It is a big step and we’re all going to learn a lot…and even if we’re not right beside each other, we’ll always be there for whoever needs us. I feel a small spark of optimism.

“It’s going to be good though, isn’t it?” I say to Leah, and she laughs as she turns and squirts a dab of frosting onto the end of my nose.

“Hell yeah, it is!”


	49. Finding the Light

 Kari wants to hold the first meeting of her rape support group before Christmas, so on a dismal, freezing afternoon I find myself standing reluctantly out the front of the Forks library. I look longingly behind me at the Camaro parked in the lot and think about escape, but I remember my vow to stop running away and with a heavy sigh I enter the library.

The community room Kari has booked is a small space at the back of the library. It’s got standard plastic chairs set out in a circle, a small table in the centre that holds a box of tissues and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. I grin wryly- Kari knows her audience.

“Rosalie, great that you could make it!” Kari’s voice comes from behind me and I move aside so that she can enter the room, carrying a jug of water and a stack of glasses. “Just let me put these down.”

I eye the glasses, mentally counting how many there are. “How many people are you expecting?” I ask tensely.

“Not that many.” Kari looks at me. “I wanted to keep it small, so we’ve kept our focus on young women who’ve been victims of rape and sexual assault, and I think we’ll have five or six girls here today.”

I take a deep breath. “Who’s ‘we’?” I ask. “When you say ‘we’ are keeping our focus on young women, who do you mean?”

“The group is being funded as part of the hospital outreach and mental health plans,” Kari answers. “There’s a committee of people at the hospital who decide how to allocate the available money, so I had to put together a detailed proposal about what I wanted it for. Carlisle helped a lot with that actually. We’ve drawn up some goals and ways of evaluating the success of the program so I can report back to them, although of course I won’t use names and things will stay confidential….Angie! Come on in. This is Rosalie, Rosalie, this is Angie.”

I turn sharply and feel my cheeks start burning, because this is a girl I recognise from school, although I’ve never known her name. She’s a junior, with short, spiky brown hair and a nose ring, wearing jeans and a heavy coat which she shrugs out of.

“I’ve heard about you at school,” she says softly to me as she takes a seat.

“I think everyone has,” I mutter, sitting down and looking at her warily. I wonder unhappily if she’s already made up her mind about me based on the rumours or truths she might have heard.

I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that there might be people from school here, but of course if the statistics Kari was talking about are true then there would almost have to be. I wind my hair around my fingers and bite my lip, but before anyone can say anything else two more girls walk in. A fifth girl comes in a few minutes later. Kari greets everyone and has a quiet word with a couple of them before she suggests we all sit down and help ourselves to water and cookies.

“Welcome! I want to say how glad I am that you all decided to come today. It’s a brave move to be willing to open up to others like this and I hope you all get something of value out of this group. We’ve been funded for a three month series of meetings, although there is potential for more after that, and I hope that in that time you’ll be able to get to know each other and find some support here as you heal. This group is open to all young women who have are survivors of rape and other sexual assault or abuse, so although the details of each person’s story are different you all have that common ground.”

Kari talks about confidentiality and what she’s hoping to achieve with this group, and then asks us to go around the circle and introduce ourselves, saying briefly why we’re here.

It’s hard to listen to. No one goes into details, but the brief words sketch out the situations and it’s not difficult to fill in the gaps.

“I’m Angie. I’m sixteen and I came because a couple of months ago I went to a party with a boy from my church. I got pretty drunk and went upstairs with him and then he forced himself on me.”

It’s my turn. I fight down the panic and say as calmly as I can, “I’m Rosalie and I’m eighteen. Six months ago my boyfriend and a few of his friends raped and beat me when I was walking home one night.” I am gripping my hair as though I’ll never let it go, and Kari gives me a reassuring nod.

“I’m Laura and I’m twenty one. I used to work at the grocery store but one night as I was leaving after my shift I was attacked out the back of the store. He had a knife and had me down on the ground with half my clothes off when one of the night janitors came out of the store and he ran away. So he didn’t exactly rape me, but…” Laura’s voice trails off. I think it doesn’t really matter if her attacker completed the job or not- Laura’s safe world was destroyed as soon as he held the knife to her throat and told her what he was going to do to her.

“I’m Kat. I’m twenty-two.” She speaks in clipped, nervous sentences and constantly jiggles her right foot. When she unwinds her scarf I can see the shadow of bruises on her neck. “I’m here because I met Kari in the hospital not too long ago and she told me to come. My husband lost his job about a year ago and he’s been…well, taking it out on me in more ways than one. I’ve left him and rented a place nearby and I really don’t want to go back to him.”

I recognise the other girl from school too. She started crying, silent tears, almost as soon as Kari first opened her mouth. “I’m Nicole,” she says now, her voice quivering slightly with her tears. “I’m fourteen and I’m here because my uncle has been…touching me for years. I never told anyone until I ended up in hospital recently and my parents made me get counselling with Kari.” Suddenly the bandages I can see peeking out from under the wristbands of her sweater make disturbing sense- this girl, who might be fourteen but doesn’t look older than twelve, has tried to kill herself.”

“Have you told you parents now?” I can’t resist asking, but no one seems offended by my curiosity.

Nicole shakes her head. “I know I should, but…” She wipes her nose. “I don’t know how, and it will cause so much trouble with the family.”

“My parents don’t know either,” Angie volunteers. “They would be furious that I went to the party and drank and was alone with him…I know they’ll tell me that I put myself in that situation and I should have known better.” He lips tighten. “I told a few of my closest friends, but no one else knows.” Her eyes dart to Nicole and then to me, and I know she’s worried about people at school finding out.

“Don’t think I’ll anything at school,” I tell her bluntly. “I know how that is and I would never put anyone else through that.” I glance around the group and say, a little unwillingly, “It feels like everyone in the world knows what happened to me. It went all through my old school which is why I came to Forks, but everyone there found out too. People on the internet are talking about me and the court verdict and…I don’t know. In some ways it feels so dehumanising. They’re not talking about _me_ , Rosalie the person, but about what happened to me as a story or as an idea or theory about rape and violence…” My voice trails away. I don’t know how to explain any more, but to my surprise I see both sympathy and understanding in the eyes around me.

“I know what you mean,” Laura says. “Telling the story again and again to the police and having them investigate it and then being made to talk about safety procedures at work until I couldn’t take it anymore and I quit…sometimes I just want to scream out to everyone that I’m a person with feelings, not just a victim.” She chews on a fingernail. “They haven’t caught him either, so that doesn’t help any of it.”

“It probably wouldn’t matter if they had caught him,” Kat says bitterly. “The legal system sucks. Brad- that’s my husband – was charged but he’s out on bail and I don’t know if it will ever come to trial.” She looks across at me. “You mentioned the legal issues….did you take your boyfriend to court?”

“He plea bargained,” I say, a little uncomfortably. “They all did, so they’re in jail.” I hesitate, but I know from my time with Kari that honesty is the only way to healing so I hurriedly tell the rest of the story. “I did take him to court though. Well, it was my dad’s idea but I went and gave a victim impact statement. The beating they gave me nearly killed me and caused me to miscarry a baby, and now I can’t have babies anymore, so we took him to court for compensation and damages.”

“Five million dollars,” Angie says softly. “That’s why everyone is talking about it at school.” She gives me a tentative smile. “I’m really sorry that you had to have everyone know and all those rumours going round.”

I shrug. “It’s a lot of money…even just the idea of it kind of makes people go crazy. Did you report what happened to you to the police?”

“No!” Angie shakes her head emphatically. “I don’t want my parents to find out. And realistically, what are the chances that anything is going to happen? He’s a good church boy and all he has to say is that I was drinking and I said yes…I hate that that’s the way it is, but I’ve seen and read enough to know that it’s likely, and I don’t feel like I’m brave enough to challenge the system.” She hangs her head and Kari touches her shoulder.

“Choosing whether to pursue legal action is a really personal decision and it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with courage,” Kari says gently. “Especially if you don’t feel like you would have the back up your parents it can be a very difficult experience.”

“And it takes money to get anything done,” Kat says flatly. “I don’t have anyone to help me push the prosecutor to do some work for me, so my case is just one in an ever growing pile.”

I see what Kari meant about the need some girls have for support. Not everyone has a Jasper or an Emmett, or the extended family I’ve found in the Cullens. Even my dad, as insensitive and clueless as he is, has at least _tried_ to do the right thing by me. Looking at Nicole and Angie who don’t feel they can tell their parents, and Kat and Laura who both clearly feel abandoned by the legal profession I feel almost guilty that I’ve been so lucky. I’ve had my family and I’ve had people with the money and the know-how to see my legal case pushed through the system. When Kari asks me what I’m thinking about I hesitantly say this, and she shakes her head.

“Survivor guilt,” she tells us. “It’s common- feeling guilt that you survived when others didn’t. In the context of rape it can be feeling guilty that elements of your attack were not as brutal as others have experienced.”

“Or that you got five million dollar settlements out of it when some people don’t even get to see their rapists arrested,” I say as an aside, and to my surprise the others laugh.

“I thought that about you.” Angie speaks up shyly as she looks across at me. “The guilt, I mean. When I heard at school about what happened to you, about being beaten and the photos and the baby I thought…well, how can I make a big deal out of being date raped? I went to the party with him and I was drunk and even though I said no to him I didn’t really struggle and he didn’t really hurt me…”

“No self-blame Angie,” Kari reminds her. “No one deserves to be raped, and it is _always_ the fault of the rapist. Never the victim. What you’re wearing, what you’ve been drinking, whether you’ve previously consented…none of that is responsible for rape. It is always the rapist who makes the choice to do that that is in the wrong and needs to take the blame.”

Beside me Nicole is crying silently, as she has been almost since the start. She seems so young and vulnerable, and feeling awkward I offer her the tissues which she takes with a whispered thank you. It’s such a small gesture but she flicks her eyes up to mine and I smile at her tentatively and she smiles back, or tries to through the tears, and it feels like it means more.

Kari smiles at me approvingly as she goes on, “The other thing I want to comment on in regards to what you said though Rosalie, is that you feel guilty that you have the level of support you have or feel as though you don’t deserve it. _Everyone_ deserves to be cared for and nurtured and helped with their healing process, and that’s what this group is about. It’s not about comparing experiences and judging whose assault was ‘worst’…this isn’t the trauma Olympics! It’s simply about supporting each other in healing from trauma and dealing with the aftermath of assault, in whatever form that happened. It’s a place to talk where you know others can empathise, because they’ve been through it too.”

It is a new experience for me, talking to people who understand. These girls, they’ve been in the same dark places as me…our journeys are different but at heart these girls _know._ It’s a very powerful thing for me to feel, for the first time since my rape, that I am not alone in what was done to me and that there are other people who might truly understand. Despite the ugly stories, my heart feels lighter when the group is over and I leave the library.


	50. Family Time

To my surprise my dad actually lives up to his word and lets us know that he’s coming to Forks for Christmas. His flight is due to land on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, so earlier in the morning Jasper and I head into Seattle. The weather is bad and we take Emmett’s Jeep as it’s better able to handle the conditions than my Camaro.

“What are you going to do about bad weather and driving when you’re in Seattle and Emmett’s in Oregon next year?” Jasper asks, fiddling with the radio. “I know you’re planning on driving to visit each other most weekends, but it kind of does my head in with worry to think of you driving four or more hours in snow and ice in the Camaro. It’s not safe, Rose.”

“I’m thinking about getting a new car,” I admit. “Something that will be good for that kind of highway driving and that can handle bad weather conditions if it has to.”

“That’s good,” Jasper finds a radio station he approves of and sits back in the seat, looking gloomy. “I hate the idea of you in Washington and me in New York!” he suddenly bursts out, before he gives me a guilty smile. “Of course I’m glad – thrilled! – that you’re feeling better and have made plans for something you want to do, but damn I’m going to miss you Rosie.”

I reach across and push him in the shoulder. “Me too, Jasper. You’re the best brother I’ve ever had,” I say lightly, keeping my eyes on the road ahead as he laughs.

“You’re pretty sure about you and Emmett then?” he asks after a moment of silence.

“Yes.” I don’t even hesitate. “I think going to different colleges is a sensible choice, and it will be good for me since I’m only just beginning to really get myself together.” I stop, thinking for a moment before I say slowly, “I suppose in some ways I’m also trying to give Emmett an easy out in case he decides he doesn’t want to deal with all my messed up shit anymore…but deep down I don’t think he wants it and I know I don’t need it. I want to be with him and I really believe that we’ll stay together.”

Jasper nods. “He’s a good guy,” he says quietly. “I think I’ll always worry about you Rose, just a little bit, but I guess not because of Emmett.”

“Is it wrong for me to say that I hope you always DO worry about me?” I ask around the lump in my throat. “I think that’s one of the biggest things that scares me about both of us going to college…that we’re going to be building such separate lives on opposite sides of the country and you’ll forget about me.”

“Oh…not a chance,” Jasper says with conviction. “We’ll talk a lot, and we’ll visit too. I mean, things will change because we won’t see each other every day, but look at all we’ve gone through together Rose...you know me better than anyone and we’re always going to be close.”

A moment later he gives a smothered snort of laughter and says, “I tell you what I _won’t_ miss? You and Emmett going at it in the next bedroom all the freaking time! Seriously Rose…waking up to that bed banging into the wall and hearing all the animal noises makes me want to puke! Can’t you go and hump each other in _your_ room?”

“Jasper!” I say, but I can’t help laughing despite my mortification. “You sound jealous…”

“Sure,” he says drily. “I’ve always wanted to bone Emmett.” He gives me a sideways look. “Don’t get me wrong. At the risk of sounding like a pervert, I’m glad for your sake you can still have sex after what happened to you…but I do wish you and Emmett weren’t quite so in my face with it!”

I snort. “He said brothers never like it. And since we’re talking about wild monkey sex…what’s the story with you and Alice?”

Jasper shrugs, but he can’t stop the soft smile that plays over his lips. “No wild monkey sex. But I like her,” he says simply.

“And?” I prompt him.

“We’re just having fun hanging out together at the moment,” he says thoughtfully. “I like her a lot, but I know that in six months or so I’ll be going to Columbia and she’ll still be here. She wants to do fashion and there are some good programs in New York, so a year after that when she’s going to college…who knows? I think both of us are just looking to enjoy each other for the moment and not worry too much about the future. We’re keeping it light. It’s not you and Emmett…but I like what we have.”

“I’m really glad,” I say sincerely. “I like Alice a lot.” I sigh. “It’s weird how this has all ended up, isn’t it? I mean, what happened to me and then coming to Forks and the Cullens…I would never have expected it to be like this.”

“It’s not what I thought my senior year would be,” Jasper agrees. “It’s been an interesting mix of really great and pure hell, to be honest.”

“For me too,” I say with a half laugh, and then the two of us fall into a comfortable silence as we continue our drive to the airport.

Dad’s flight is delayed, and he’s not in the best mood when he finally disembarks and we find him at the gate. A strong cup of coffee to take away with him improves matters, as does the news that we’re heading home to one of Esme’s delicious feasts.

“I don’t think I’ve had a home cooked meal in years,” Dad says, and then blinks as we approach Emmett’s monster Jeep. “What the hell are you driving, Rose?”

“It’s Emmett’s,” I laugh. “It handles a bit better than the Camaro in the wet.”

Dad throws his luggage in and then climbs into the front seat with effort as Jasper gets into the back. It amuses me to see Dad struggling with the harness, although in the end he fastens himself in.

“Should I be worried that you need all this safety gear?” he says to me, only half joking.

“Nah, not on the highways,” I say as I exit the parking garage. “It’s only when Emmett and I go off-roading that things can sometimes get hairy.”

“Well, take care of yourself,” Dad says sternly. “I don’t want anything else happening to you. And speaking of that…” His voice lightens. “You’ve got your money.”

I nearly drive off the road I’m so shocked. “What? So soon?”

“Yes,” Dad says, sounding pleased. “I guess Christine King meant it when she said there’d be no appeal because we’ve been given notice that the verdict will be uncontested and the money’s been transferred. The lawyer has taken his cut and the government’s got their share, but you’re quite well-to-do now Rosalie.” He tells me how much money I’ve got and my mind reels.

“Fuck. I can’t…oh, damn.” Unsteadily I pull over to the side of the road and rest my head on the wheel for a moment. I knew I was getting the money and I knew roughly how much, but the reality of that much cash at my fingertips is terrifying.

“You’ll have to decide what you want to do with it,” Dad says into the silence. “I can look after the portion you decide to invest, and if we’re careful then we can really set you up for life with this. And now you don’t ever need to think about…well, what happened. It’s all over.”

 _Over? It’s over?_ Dazedly I shake my head. _This isn’t something that’s ever going to be_ over…

“What?” Dad asks, sounding baffled. “I thought you’d be happy. It’s a lot of money…”

The rage bubbles up from somewhere deep inside, and I don’t try to stop it. “Dad!” I explode, raising my head and thumping my fist on the wheel furiously. “Can you please just _try_ , just for _one_ minute, to understand me! Yeah, it’s a lot of money and that’s great, but I went through hell to get it! _I was raped._ Do you even _know_ what that means? I was held down and forced to have them _inside my body_ and then they beat me to shit so that I lost my baby. Your _granddaughter._ We should be preparing to celebrate my baby’s first Christmas but instead she’s gone and there’ll never be another one for me because of what they did! So _please_ dad, please just _think_ about what that means and maybe try and imagine what that was like for me! Then maybe you might, _just possibly,_ understand why I’m not jumping up and down with joy like I’ve just won the lottery!”

I stop, breathing hard, and stare at dad who is gazing back at me in bewilderment. I’ve never shouted at him the way I just have. Even Jasper, in the back seat, is wide eyed and motionless with shock.

“Well, okay,” Dad says uncertainly. “I certainly understand…okay.”

Not for the first time in my life I wish he was different and that our relationship could be different. But it is what it is, and I sigh and take a deep breath before I carefully pull out onto the road.

It’s dad who breaks the silence. “I’m sorry Rosalie,” he says, and it gives me a jolt of surprise to hear the note of genuine remorse. “I didn’t want to upset you. I really thought you’d be happy to know that all the legal stuff is over and done with and you’ve got the money. I’m sorry.”

I nod, although I don’t say anything. I do recognise that in his ham-fisted, unimaginative way my dad has tried to do something for me, and that although he doesn’t even come close to understanding my feelings about it his intentions were good. “It’s okay,” I say.

“I guess it opens up the options for buying a new car,” Jasper says, with only slightly forced cheerfulness. “Rosalie wants a new car that’s going to be better for driving between UW and OSU…what do you think, Dad?” And the conversation turns to cars, and the tension eases a little.

When we reach home I leave Dad greeting Esme and Carlisle at the front door and bolt upstairs. I need to be alone, and I shut myself in the bathroom and mechanically brush my hair as I stare at myself in the mirror. _It’s over. No more legal manoeuvring, no more telling my story to strangers because I’m being forced to…the money is mine and I can move on._ It’s as though I don’t even know how to feel about this.

“Rosa?” There’s a light rap on the door. “Esme sent me up to tell you dinner is nearly ready.”

I step out of the bathroom and into Emmett’s waiting arms.

“Hey,” he says gently, holding me close. “You okay?”

I lean my forehead against his chest. “Yeah. Three hours in a car with my dad though…can he go back to New York now?”

Emmett laughs sympathetically. “It was tough then?

“Just a bit.” I pull away from him and raise my hands helplessly. “I know that he loves me, but he has no idea who I am and what I want from him…he tries sometimes, but he’s just so far _wrong._ ” I sigh heavily. “You’re so lucky to have Esme and Carlisle.”

“At least he’s trying?” Emmett says doubtfully. He reaches across and touches my mouth with soft fingers. “I’m sorry it’s hard for you.”

I smile and kiss the fingers against my mouth. “It’s not the hardest thing in the world.” I take Emmett’s hand in mine. “Let’s go down to dinner.”

It feels strange to see my dad sitting between Jasper and Carlisle at the big dinner table, passing the side dishes and pouring the wine. It feels as though he’s making a bridge between my life here in Forks and my previous life that seemed to end so abruptly. Part of Rochester, here in Forks, in the safety and sanctuary of my Cullen home…it makes my world feel just a little bit bigger.

Esme’s food is, as always, excellent and everyone does it full justice. The Christmas decorations adorning the dining room and the carols playing quietly in the background remind everyone that it’s Christmas Eve, and spirits are high as the food rapidly disappears. Dad has a liberal hand with the wine, and he and Carlisle and Esme are soon laughing and reminiscing. I watch my dad smile, struck by how much he looks like Jasper when he does, and wonder what he would have been like with us if my mother hadn’t died and broken his heart.

I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to shut my heart to love and close myself off to the future and all the possibilities it holds just because something once happened that made life seem unbearable. I want to always, always, have hope. I look across at Emmett, and when he catches my eye his dimples deepen as he smiles at me. _I love you._

_My life can be good…it will be. I’ll make it so._


	51. The Christmas Eve Pyjama Party

When dinner is finished Esme brings out a big shopping bag and Emmett and Edward both groan, clearly knowing what’s coming. Mystified I look on as Alice claps her hands in glee and shouts out, “Christmas pyjama time!”

“It is!” Esme beams at us all fondly. “And don’t complain boys…this is the last Christmas before Emmett goes to college so I want one last Christmas with all my babies in their Christmas pyjamas getting their photo taken in front of the tree on Christmas Eve!”

I can’t help laughing at the idea of Esme calling the big, brawny Emmett her ‘baby’, but my laughter stops when Esme hands me a folded up pair of pyjamas and I realise that I’m being included in this particular family ritual.

“I get Christmas pyjamas too?” I say in surprise.

“Aren’t you glad you’re part of the family now?” Emmett snorts.

I don’t say anything as I rub the soft flannel of the pyjamas and look over at Esme, who gives me a gentle smile and a quick wink.

“You and Jasper _are_ part of the family now,” she says. “So go upstairs and put on your new jammies and come back down for hot chocolate and dessert.”

“Am I eight years old or eighteen?” I joke, but I obediently carry my new pyjamas upstairs and get changed.

“Oh, you look adorable!” Alice exclaims, barging into my room in her new pink pyjamas printed with gingerbread people. “Let me braid your hair. I love Christmas!”

“Your family is so weird,” I tell her with a giggle, but I sit on the end of my bed and let her quickly weave my hair into two long braids. My new pyjamas are purple and have polar bears wearing Santa hats on them. “What’s with the pyjama thing?”

“Mom does it every Christmas Eve,” Alice confides. “You know how she likes traditions and making occasions out of things! She buys us all new Christmas pyjamas and takes our photo in front of the Christmas tree. She keeps all the old pyjamas in a trunk in the attic and she says that one day she’s going to make a quilt out of them.”

“If you laugh at me I’ll kill you,” Emmett says, slouching into the room and rolling his eyes at me as he buttons up his blue Christmas Snoopy pyjamas. “Of all the things Esme does, these goddamn Christmas Eve pyjama parties…”

I giggle as Alice ties off the end of my second braid and then gives Emmett a gentle shove.

“Oh, come on!” she says affectionately. “You know you love it!”

Jasper steps into my room, his cheeks pinking with embarrassment when I whistle at his black, candy cane printed pyjamas. “Love it?” he says. “For once I wish Carlisle and Esme were a bit less inclusive…I’d be happy to sit on the sidelines for this one.”

“At least now that there will be more of us in the photo there’s a greater chance of being able to hide at the back,” Edward mutters from the doorway. His pyjamas have Christmas trees on a red background and the whole outfit clashes horribly with his hair. “Why did I get red this year? Yours are alright Jasper…can’t we swap?”

I can’t help laughing. The boys are all mocking each other and complaining how embarrassing it is, but I am secretly enraptured by this family tradition. The pyjamas make everyone look younger, and I remember how magical Christmas seemed when I was a child. I’m an adult now and all too aware of how little magic the real world holds, but to me it feels wonderful to dress up and pretend, just for a little while, that all that magic might be real.

When we go downstairs Alice drags out a scrapbook and shows me all the Christmas Eve pyjama photos from previous years, starting with toddler Edward alone in front of the tree and progressing through the years until he was joined by Emmett and Alice, and then all three of them grow together. Esme looks over my shoulder and her eyes are bright as she looks at the pictures of her ‘babies’. It occurs to me that I have never thought of Esme as anything less than their mother even though she didn’t birth them, and for a brief moment I wonder if I too will become a mother through law and love rather than biology.

  I blush as Emmett wraps his arms around me from behind and nuzzles into my neck. “What’s on your mind?”

 _Just thinking about having your babies…_ “Not much. Look how cute you all were!”

Emmett snorts. “I agree that Christmas pyjamas are okay when you’re a little kid who still believes in Santa!” He grins at Esme. “I thought you would have given it up by now.”

Esme kisses his forehead. “You’ll be off to college next year Emmett, and who knows what will happen then…just let me enjoy my family all being together while it lasts. There were a few years there where I thought Carlisle and I would never have children to celebrate Christmas with. Now all of you need to go and sit down in front of the Christmas tree so I can get my photo!”

Alice and I sit cross legged on the floor with the boys behind us for Esme’s photo. We smile nicely for the first one and then everyone mucks up, making faces and holding up our fingers to make antlers behind each other’s heads. It’s like we’re all kids again, and I laugh until my sides hurt as I watch all the silliness.

After that there’s hot chocolate and cupcakes and candy canes, and Carlisle kissing Esme under the mistletoe while Alice whoops and Emmett throws candy at them. Dad drinks more wine and talks more animatedly than I’ve seen him do in years, and then we all play Trivial Pursuit to end the day. Carlisle wins. Everyone brings down presents and piles them under the tree with so much laughter and teasing I can’t stop smiling, but gradually everyone says their goodnights and disappears into bedrooms. Finally it’s just Emmett and I.

I’m tired after my long day of driving, but lying beside the Christmas tree with my head pillowed on Emmett’s belly, watching the way the twinkling lights paint his face with rainbows as he lies in the tree’s shadow is so perfectly relaxing that I don’t want to move. Emmett’s hands are folded behind his head as he gazes peacefully up into the branches, and for a long time neither of us speak.

“I kind of love your family,” I say eventually.

Emmett chuckles. “They’re your family too now. You’ve got Christmas pyjamas and that makes it official. Screw the court documents and the adoption decree, it was when she put Christmas pyjamas on me and posed me in front of her tree that Esme committed to being my mom.”

I laugh and run my hand along his leg. “I don’t mind.”

“Your family’s okay too though,” Emmett says, taking his hands out from behind his head and tugging on my pyjamas until I wriggle around and lie beside him with my head on his shoulder like he wants me too. “Jasper’s a legend and your dad’s not so bad.” He strokes my hair.

“I guess.” I think about Jasper and my dad and I smile, before I say slowly, “You know, when we were driving back from the airport Dad told me that I’ve got the money from the court case.”

“Wow,” Emmett says, startled. “That was quick.”

“I didn’t expect it so soon,” I confess. “Really, I didn’t expect it _at all_ …despite what Royce’s mom said to me outside the court, I didn’t really believe that Royce wouldn’t keep on fighting me. The way he looked at me in court I know he hates me.” I shudder, and Emmett’s arms tighten around me.

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks...he’s nothing to you now. I’m just happy for you that the legal shit is over and he can’t touch you anymore.”

I touch my lips to the pulse point on Emmett’s neck. “I hate the thought of all that money,” I whisper. “I’m glad he had to pay for what he did, but the idea that I’m a freaking millionaire now because of it…it’s blood money Emmett, and I don’t want it.”

There’s a long silence. “You deserve it though,” Emmett says finally. “You’ve went through hell, and it’s going to make your life a lot easier.”

I shift restlessly in his arms. “I survived, that’s all…and I was lucky enough to have so many people to love me and take care of me and help me get better afterwards. I was so lucky to have access to the medical care and therapy that I needed, and to have people with the money and the knowledge to work the legal system and get my attackers prosecuted and my case taken seriously. Talking in Kari’s rape group made me realise that, and realise too that not everyone is so lucky. I didn’t get five million dollars because what happened to me merited that much more than anyone else gets, I got five million dollars because Royce is wealthy and it took that much to make him feel they’d given him more than a slap on the wrist.”  

“You just can’t worry about where it all came from,” Emmett says. “You need to focus on what it can do- you can pay for the surgery you want on your scar, you can travel, you can buy anything you want…”

“But I don’t want _things_ ,” I say softly, arching my back and looking up. Our faces are so close all I can see is the endless blue depths of his eyes. “Right now I don’t want any of that…I want to feel safe, I want to feel loved, I want to know that one day I can adopt a baby and make a family and be a good mom like my mom was before she got sick and like Esme is always…I want _you.”_

“You have me,” Emmett says hoarsely. “Now...tomorrow…always. I’m yours, Rosa girl, always.” And then he laughs, his eyes soft with love, as he reaches behind him and brings out a sprig of mistletoe and strokes it across my cheek. “Is it the right time for this then?”

I laugh too, and roll him onto his back so I can slide over the top of him. “Of course,” I breathe, my lips already on his. “Isn’t it always the right time for kissing under the mistletoe?”

Christmas day is wonderful. I wake up to Emmett sprawled out asleep beside me, and I take a moment just to look at him because he’s beautiful when he’s asleep. I love the way he smiles and frowns in his sleep, I love the way his curly hair winds up in wild disarray, and I love the way when he sleeps beside me he almost inevitably wakes up with a hard-on. I’m considering whether he’d prefer to be woken by hands or my mouth when Alice comes bounding in to my room.

“Come open presents Rosalie! Ugh, I hate finding my brother half naked in your bed!”

“Well, you could always knock?” I suggest with a roll of my eyes as Alice giggles and yanks on Emmett’s foot.

“I forget! Come on Emmett…get up!”

Emmett whines and rolls towards me, his hands blindly groping. I take hold of them hastily as he gets one in under my pyjama top and pull it away as Alice crosses her eyes and makes a gagging noise at me. “Emmett, Alice is here…wake up.”

“Too early,” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes and yawning before he scowls at Alice. “Go ‘way Alice.”

“It’s Christmas morning!” Alice is practically hopping up and down with excitement. “Come downstairs…we’re all going to give out the gifts.”

I laugh and scramble out of bed, and Emmett groans and then sits up to put on his pyjama top, which he must have thrown off during the night.

“Okay, presents…” he yawns again and then grins at Alice and I. “Merry Christmas!”

Downstairs Jasper high fives me and Dad gives an awkward attempt at a hug before everyone sits down and we take it in turns to hand out and unwrap the gifts. I receive funny and beautiful and thoughtful gifts, and then Esme cooks pancakes and bacon and eggs and I smother everything in peanut butter and maple syrup and eat until I think I’m going to burst out of my Christmas pyjamas.

The rest of the day is just as good. Vera calls to thank me for the books I sent to Henry for Christmas and the two of us talk for a long time. Jasper and Emmett claim that Die Hard counts as a Christmas movie and they watch that with Dad and Alice after lunch, while I read and nap on the rug in front of the fireplace. Edward and Carlisle and I help Esme with dinner. We take our time over eating, everyone talking and sitting around nibbling at dessert and cheese and wine long after we’re all full, and when I finally give in to tiredness and head up to bed, Emmett comes with me and this time neither of us wear our Christmas pyjamas.


	52. Philanthropy

My dad’s flight back to Rochester is booked for the day after Christmas. Carlisle and Esme drive, and at the last minute I decide to go too. Even through the delight of Christmas day, the thought of the money that I now control has been festering away in my mind, and I think that this will be the last chance I will have to talk to my dad about it.

Carlisle and Dad sit in the front and talk, about sports and work and investments, with Esme leaning forward from the back seat to contribute from time to time. I stare out the window and half listen and tug on my hair until I think it might fall out if I don’t start talking soon.

“Rosalie?” There’s a gentle touch on my shoulder. Esme. “Is there something on your mind?”

I turn away from the window and face her. “Sort of…I mean, yes. It’s about the money.”

In the front seat my dad and Carlisle go quiet. Dad twists around in the passenger seat to look at me, and I can see Carlisle’s eyes flicking up the rearview mirror to look at me. “What about the money?” he asks, and the kindness in his voice reassures me.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” I say, still hesitant. “I know the court awarded it to me, but it feels…it feels wrong.”

“Oh Rose,” Dad sighs, almost irritably. “It’s yours, you deserve it…”

“Wait Jack,” Carlisle holds up a hand. “Let her talk.”

I flash him a grateful look. “I feel sick every time I think about it. If Royce hadn’t been rich I wouldn’t have got anything like that much, and it doesn’t feel right that I got so much when other girls who go through it don’t get anything. I think that the money could do a lot more than just make me rich.”

“So what are you saying? You want to just _give it all away_?” Dad’s voice is loud with disbelief.

“I don’t want to give it _all_ away,” I say, a little defensively. “I mean, the compensation amount was pretty reasonable and I’m not an idiot…I want the scar revision surgery as soon as they’ll do it and I know that insurance might not cover it because it’s considered cosmetic. I know that because of what happened I can’t ever get pregnant and if I want to have a baby one day I’m going to have to adopt one or something and that takes money…I want to keep enough to cover those future expenses. And I want a new car.” Guiltily I look down at my hands. “That’s not a necessity, but it would be good to have something that drives well in wet or icy conditions to have when I go to college.”

There’s a long silence, and I look uncertainly over at Esme. “That’s not being too selfish is it?”

“Not at all sweetie,” Esme smiles. “I think you’re being realistic. The courts gave you that payment for a reason and you _should_ be using it for things like the surgery and your future family. I think it’s wonderful that you want to do something for other girls, but you need to take care of yourself too. No one will fault you for using some of it to buy a new car, or to go on a good holiday once school is over. Personally I’d love to see you go somewhere where you can lie in the sun and do nothing but really relax for a while after all you’ve been through.”

I grin at her. I love that idea - I can’t help but imagine white sand and turquoise water and lying in a hammock with Emmett, sipping icy drinks while we watch the sunset. I push away the thought that my bikini probably shows my scars.

Dad looks troubled. “I just don’t want you throwing away your future because you feel guilty. That bastard nearly destroyed you Rose, and he deserved to pay. You earned every cent of that money with what you went through.”

I wince at his phrasing – _earned every cent…Dad, now you’re making me sound like I got paid for sex_ – but I try and keep calm, even though I can feel my heart drumming fast in my chest. In the end it doesn’t matter what any of them think because the money is mine and I can do whatever I want with it, but I really would like them to understand and support me in this.

“I’m not throwing my future away,” I say patiently. “Even without this money my future looks okay. Thanks to modelling when I was younger, and the money you and Mom invested for me, I have a good sized college fund. Once I have my degree I can earn my own money.” I pause for a moment, thinking, before I go on more softly. “My future probably doesn’t look like it did before all this happened. That assault changed everything…and in the end I’ll never know what might have been in my life if Royce hadn’t caught up with me that night. But that’s okay. It doesn’t matter what _could_ have been. What matters is what is, and right now I like to think that I’m doing okay. I don’t have the future mapped out, but I have some ideas and I’m looking forward to finding out more.”

Dad shrugs helplessly. “Look, I can’t say I understand you Rosalie…but I’m trying. I want you to keep the settlement, or at least a big part of it. Things happen kiddo, things you don’t see coming and that can turn your world upside down, and I want to know that you have some money behind you to take care of yourself if something happens.” His voice is gruff, and I know he’s thinking about my mother.

My throat feels tight. “I know that Dad, and I am going to keep some of the money. But the thing is, something really awful _did_ happen, and I found out how much I have and how many people I have who’ve got my back and are going to be there if I need them. Jasper and all the Cullens and Kari and you…I’m lucky. Not everyone has as much as I did when things go wrong.”

Carlisle doesn’t say anything, but his eyes crinkle up at the corners as he smiles at me in the rear view mirror.

“I’m not going to try and talk you out of it,” Dad says finally. “I know you’ll do what you need to do. But please Rosalie, be sensible and take care of yourself too. That’s not selfish, it’s just smart.”

“Have you thought about what you would like to do with the money instead?” Esme asks.

“Yeah. I need to know though, if I donate it to a big organisation, can I say how I want it to be used?”

“It would depend on the circumstances, a little, but generally the answer would be yes,” Dad says.

“Good. Because I want most of it to go to Kari for the rape support group,” I say in a rush. “I know she’s funded by the hospital for the next couple of months but after that the group’s future is uncertain. The hospital is a charity and I can donate it to them, but I want them to use it to fund the support group. I can see how important it is, and I think Kari has done so much for me and I want…she can help so many girls in the group, so many of them who don’t have the money for private therapy and don’t have a family that knows what happens or cares as much you all did for me.” I can feel tears stinging my eyes and I bite my lip.

“Rosalie, I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Esme says sincerely.

Carlisle grins. “You can definitely donate it to the hospital and have it earmarked for Kari’s program, I’m sure about that. It’s a very, very generous offer Rosalie, and I’m sure Kari is going to be over the moon about it.”

Dad looks marginally happier to know that the money will be going to the hospital that Carlisle is involved with. I know he’d still prefer that I keep it all and let him invest it, but he just shakes his head and gives me a weak smile without saying anything, and for my dad that’s pretty good.

I give Esme a tremulous smile. “So you think it’s a good idea? I just kept thinking about how much it helped me when you told me about what happened to you. Just knowing I wasn’t the only one naïve enough to get into that situation…it made it easier. I think the group will be like that too.”

“It’s a very good idea,” Esme says warmly. “I like the idea that this money will go to helping lots of women and girls who need it.”

“There are so many out there,” I say quietly. “Kari’s been telling me about the statistics and it’s really scary. There’s so much that can be done with the support group too- I’ve read about Kari’s last group and I looked some things up online too about what’s possible if you have the funding. Things like self-defence lessons within the group so you can learn in a safe place, or having a lawyer come in and talk about how to get your case through the system more easily, art therapy…that kind of thing.”

Carlisle is nodding eagerly. “There is definitely a lot more that can be done with the group. We can talk to the hospital’s charity and legal representatives about how it will be managed, and you can be involved in that Rosalie. But there’s no rush either…you need to be _sure_ that this is what you want to do. You’re completely entitled to keep the money, so take your time and think about everything carefully.”

“I’m sure,” I say confidently. I know that I’m doing the right thing. The sick feeling in my stomach at the thought of the money disappears when I think about giving it away, and my heart feels light and happy when I think of what Kari can do with it. Angie, Nicole, Kat and Laura…I hear their stories in my mind and know how broken and alone they have felt. I’m doing a good thing, to share this money that I know will never feel like it belongs to me, and share this hope.

Dad hugs me before he gets on the plane. I submit to his embrace a little awkwardly- we’ve never been a physically demonstrative family, but his face looks so old and tired when he looks at me that I feel sorry for him.

“Take care of yourself Rosie,” he says gruffly, before he walks off without looking back.

I stare after him, and then I shake my head and cover my face in my hands for a moment. “I don’t understand him at all,” I mutter as Esme touches my shoulder.

“He loves you,” she says simply. “He loves you and Jasper both, more than he realised. He’s missed you this year.”

“Jack just doesn’t know how to show it,” Carlisle said, wrapping an arm around Esme’s shoulder and kissing her on the cheek. “Your dad’s a complicated man, Rosalie.”

I shrug. “He just seems to make everything so difficult,” I say in a small voice. “I know he’s trying, but….why can’t our family just be like _you?_ ”

Esme and Carlisle both laugh, but it’s gentle and affectionate instead of mocking.

“Every family is different,” Esme tells me. “And right now you get both- Jack and Jasper, and then all the Cullens as well.”

“I know, you’ve been…amazing,” I say, a little stiffly as we begin walking towards the exit. “I never expected that you’d make me and Jasper as much a part of your family as you have.”

“We like having you around,” Carlisle says cheerfully. “We’re happy for you to stay around for a long time yet! Remember that Rosalie, having you with us has never been a burden. In fact, it’s been a pleasure to watch you grow and bloom.”

“Even when you go away to college I want you to know that we’re here for you,” Esme adds. “Whatever happens with you and Emmett, we’ll always care for you and help you if we can.”

I’m blushing fiercely. How can they just be so open with the way they feel? How can they be so generous with the way that they love? But at the same time… _I’m so lucky that you were there to catch me when I fell._

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Emmett is the first thing I see when we reach home after the long, slow journey from Seattle. It has snowed most of the way and Carlisle is a careful driver on the windy, icy roads. I hear his quiet sigh of relief as the car skids a little as he brings it to a stop outside the front steps, and then his chuckle as he catches sight of Emmett. I laugh too. Emmett, looking almost pudgy with the layers of t-shirts and sweats he’s wearing, has dragged the automatic pitcher out of the garage and is batting, slamming the balls out into the forest surrounding the house. His face is red with cold. The almost empty basket of balls beside the pitching machine and the heavy scatting of snow over Emmett’s clothes suggest that he’s been out here awhile.

“Think our boy’s keen for spring?” Carlisle says to Esme with a grin.

Esme laughs. “What on earth would give you that idea?” she mocks gently, adding in my direction as I push open the door, “If you want to stay outside with him, Rosalie, you need to go inside and get some warmer clothes.”

“I’ll just be a second,” I say, gasping slightly as the frigid air outside hits my lungs as I hurry across to Emmett.

“Rosa girl!” he says cheerfully, not taking his eyes off the auto-pitcher. “Hang about- I’m nearly out of balls.”

I can’t believe how fast the balls are pelting towards him, and I tuck my hands into my armpits to keep them warm as I watch him swing his bat with easy confidence. Oh, he looks so comfortable doing this, even bundled up in as many layers as he is.

“Your dad get away okay?”

“Yeah.” My teeth are already chattering. “Hurry up or I’m going inside.”

“It’s an _automatic_ pitcher,” Emmett snorts. “You know what automatic means, right?” But he drops his bat and bounds across to me, grabbing me in his arms and swinging me around so fast that my feet fly out from underneath me and I can’t help but shriek. “But I’m done anyway,” he says, and I squeal again as his cold face nuzzles into my neck. “Oh, you’re warm…” he murmurs. He kisses me, and his face feels like ice but his mouth is hot. “I’m glad you’re home.”

I slide my hands up under the layers and feel the heat of his skin, and suddenly I don’t feel so cold. His big arms around me are safe and cosy, and his love warms my heart. He pulls away and smiles at me as he swipes at his red nose with a gloved hand, and I laugh as I think how very unromantic this is and how very little I care. “I love you, you know that?”

Emmett grins and drops me back to my feet, slinging an arm around my shoulder and steering me towards the house. “I love you too. Now come inside baby, I’ve been out here for ages and I’m goddamn freezing…maybe you can help me warm up.”


	53. Epilogue

It’s snowing in the third week of January as I hurry towards the community room at the library. I can’t believe I’m late, today of all days, and I hastily stamp the snow off my boots and push my way through the door. “Sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kari says with a grin.

“We’re just enjoying our new luxury,” Angie says with a laugh, as she wiggles her butt more comfortably down into the new beanbag seats we voted that we wanted last week. “This is way more relaxing than those horrible plastic chairs!”

There’s a purple one left next to Nicole, and I sink into it, giggling as the beans all shift around me. “You’re right, this is much better.”

I think it’s the first time I’ve seen Nicole not crying as she smiles at me from her pink beanbag. “They’re good. Thanks for getting them Kari.”

“Don’t thank me,” Kari says, crouching by the small table in the centre of the circle, pouring out plastic cups of juice and handing them around, along with a frosted cupcake each. “None of these beanbags came from my pocket…I’ve got some news for the group.”

Everyone looks up, and Kari meets my eye with a brief wink before she says, “I wanted to let you all know that this support group has been given a very welcome, very generous donation of funds which is going to enable us to run for a long time…basically indefinitely at this point. The beanbags are part of it- we’re going to do a few things to make this a more welcoming and friendlier feeling space. I want your input on that though, so think about what kind of things would make this a place where you, and girls like you, would feel comfortable and safe enough to come back to regularly and open up. We’ve also got the money for a few other special programs and guest speakers that we can have come into the group when you’re all ready for that.”

“Sounds good,” Kat says.

“It’s _very_ good,” Kari says with her husky laugh. “The other thing I wanted to discuss with you was our name- while calling this the Young Women’s Sexual Assault Survivor Support Group is very informative…it’s also very clunky, dry, and somewhat in-your-face. Not everyone is comfortable outing themselves as a survivor just by walking into a group meeting when there’s a notice with that name on the door. I thought we needed a change.”

I look at her and raise my eyebrows. She hasn’t mentioned anything about changing the name to me.

Since I first told Kari what I planned on doing with the money she and I have discussed it endlessly. Firstly about whether or not donating the money to the hospital was the right thing for me to do, and then when she accepted that I was serious and determined to do it and was very unlikely to regret it, we talked a lot about what I really want to achieve with my endowment. By clarifying my feelings and what I hoped to achieve we were able to make a short list of goals for the money that I took with me when Carlisle and I met with the his lawyer and the hospital lawyer to draft out the terms of the endowment. It was all a lot more complicated than I had anticipated, but things are finally looking settled.

Kari looks at me, and for a moment she loses her professional mask as I see tears shimmering in her eyes. “I think our group needs a name that you can mention to each at any time and still feel you’re being discreet. I just didn’t know what it should be until recently…but in honour of our donor and in memory of one special little life that was lost to violence, I think we should call ourselves Lily’s Group.”

  _Ohhh._ Kari’s never mentioned it and I would never have even thought to ask for something like that as a condition of my donation, but how _perfect_. A memorial for my baby Lily. We’ll say her name and it will mean something good; her name will become synonymous with this group that has so quickly become a place of strength and healing for me.

“Thank you,” I mouth at Kari, as I shift slightly to a more comfortable spot in my beanbag and look around the circle, seeing the nods and smiles of the other girls. They know, and they like the idea too. _Lily’s Group._

_I am Rosalie Lilian Hale, and once I was hurt so badly I thought I was broken and would never be whole again. What they did changed me but they couldn’t break me – I fought and struggled against the shame and the fear until I found the strength and beauty and love that lit up my darkness and made my world bright again. I am a survivor._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- A happy ending for Rosalie then- she’s in a good place with Emmett and her family and most importantly, she’s feeling good about herself. It’s been a hard road for her but I think she’s going well.  
> And I loved writing about her! So much gratitude for the prompt that led to writing this, because human Rosalie and human Emmett were as gorgeous as their vampire counterparts, with the added fun of being able to make them eat and sleep too. I’ve loved having them living in my head over the last few months while I’ve been writing this.  
> Thank you again to everyone who reads and reviews. Knowing what you like (and don’t like) is so helpful and really encourages me to keep writing. I love talking about the stories and the characters, so I honestly mean it when I say feel free to write me a note anytime.   
> This is the end of the story, but I have a few bits and pieces that I’ve written that go along with it that I’ll post over the next couple of days. Some scenes from Emmett’s POV and one from Jasper’s…nothing major, but I always like reading them for other people’s stories so I figure I might as well add them on here too.


	54. Extra- Jasper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes a look at Jasper and Rosalie in the immediate aftermath of the assault. After Rosalie was attacked in the park Royce and his pals left her there, and a little while later she was found by someone who called an ambulance and the police. She was rushed straight into surgery while the police went through her things and found her id. They called her dad, and he and Jasper came to the hospital.  
> This isn’t really a fun one, to be honest, but I wrote it when I was thinking about the impact on Jasper. I wanted to see what it had been like for him to find out what had happened, and also see how the closeness of their relationship affected that and the way they acted towards each other at the time. This chapter was one that didn’t really have a place in the story, but was an important bit of backstory for me to know so that’s why I kept writing it.

I shift uncomfortably in the plastic chair, feeling the way my t-shirt is starting to stick to my sweating back in the over-heated room. I don’t want to look, but I can’t keep my eyes away from the figure in the bed. I know it’s Rosalie, but she’s so battered and disfigured by the bruises and swelling that I think I could have walked past this room without recognising her. Even her hair is matted and dirty, stained with the blood that must have been covering every inch of her.

Dad’s outside, talking with the doctor and the police. Shouting really, because he’s furious. I don’t know if he’s angry with the doctors, angry with the police, angry with the people who did this to my sister, or angry with Rosalie herself. Maybe all four. I hope he stays away until she wakes up…the last thing Rosalie is going to want to be confronted with when she comes back is our dad.

A nurse approaches the bed and stands on the opposite side to me, checking the numbers on the monitors and making notes in the chart. I don’t realise that in my numb state I’m staring at her until she smiles at me.

“The surgery anaesthesia is wearing off now, so she should wake up soon.”

I run a hand through my hair. “Will she…will she be in a lot of pain?”

“She’s been given some pretty heavy duty painkillers so it shouldn’t be too unbearable. She’ll be pretty groggy and disoriented though, between the drugs and the concussion.” The nurse returns the chart to the end of the bed.

“The police want her awake and alert, so she can tell them what happened to her,” I say slowly, reaching out to touch her and realising that there’s nowhere on her body I can see where I could touch her and not cause her pain.

The nurse nods, looking at Rosalie with a professional mask of sympathy. “Hopefully she can tell them something. With the head injury and the shock there’s no guarantee that she’ll be able to give a full account of what happened though.”

A full account. What must have happened to my sister to put her in the state she is in now doesn’t even bear thinking about. Fractured skull, fractured cheek, broken arm, broken fingers, cracked ribs, fractured hand, ruptured spleen…she was already in emergency surgery when dad and I were called and told that she had been assaulted and she was here. When we got to the hospital she was still in the OR, and it wasn’t until they were finished putting her back together that the doctor came out and told us the rest. The rapes. The baby that I didn’t even know she was carrying, lost too, and the emergency hysterectomy they’d been forced to do to save her life.

For a minute I hadn’t known if I was going to pass out or puke. I probably could have done both, to be honest. But the thought of Rosalie waking up alone was appalling and so I swallowed down my initial, emotion fuelled reactions and calmly asked them to let me go and sit with her in recovery. It’s against their usual policy, but there’s nothing usual about the situation my sister has ended up in and they finally brought me here, to sit in this uncomfortable plastic chair and stare at this grotesquely beaten human that they’ve told me is my sister.

 Rosalie moves in the bed and I snap my head up to watch her, but she only whimpers a little before subsiding into stillness. Her broken hand is in encased in a brace and bandages because it’s too swollen for them to plaster it yet, and the other hand has the iv needle in and the pulse and oxygen monitor on her finger.

It’s her face I keep coming back to though. Her beautiful face, so bruised and swollen that she’s nearly unrecognisable. There’s a line of tiny, delicate stitching at her hairline, and I wonder if there will be permanent scars, and how my pretty, vain sister is going to cope with that.

“Jasper?” Her voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper. “Jas…”

I’m at her side, bending low over her, in an instant. “Rosie.”

She can barely open one eye because of the swelling, and it’s hard for her to talk with her cracked, swollen lips, but in her glazed, unfocussed eyes I see her struggle to connect her thoughts. “I…hurt.”

“I know, Rosie. But you’re going to be okay.” I try to smile instead of cry, because I know in my heart that my sister is never going to be okay ever again, not like she was before this.

_I could kill whoever did this to her!_

I see when her expression changes, when she finally catches hold of the elusive thought she’s been chasing. Her eyes sharpen with a sudden terror and the hand with the iv reaches out and clutches convulsively at my sleeve. “Baby,” she rasps. “My baby.”

There’s nothing I can say. Nothing I can do but hold her hand and shake my head gently. “I’m sorry Rosie,” I whisper. “The baby’s gone.”

I am not prepared for the noise she makes, a cracked and broken howl that chills my spine and makes my heart ache. Her voice is gone then and she sobs silently, lost somewhere inside her own pain and grief. I bend low over her but I can’t even touch her, her body such a broken mess of agony that touching her in love and compassion is only going to hurt her more.

The doctor comes in then, dad and the police behind him. Rosalie responds to no one though, not even me now, and when the doctor touches her shoulder she starts screaming until a nurse comes and turns up the morphine drip so much that she passes out again.

They take her out of recovery then and we all move in a quiet, sombre procession to the private room they’ve prepared for her. The medical staff have other patients and once Rosalie is situated and hooked up to monitors they leave to attend to them. I convince Dad to go home and get Rosalie some of her things and the police tell me they’ll be in the waiting room and leave too. So it’s just me who is there again when Rosalie’s eyes flutter open and she makes a tiny noise.

“Rosie?” I’ve lapsed back into calling her by the old baby name in her newly vulnerable state. “Can I get you anything?”

Her throat must be so dry she can’t even speak, but she indicates the water jug on the bedside table and I help her take a drink. Every little movement makes her wince.

I know I should call the nurses now that she’s awake. I know the doctors and the police want to talk to her. But I also know my sister better than anyone else does and so I give her the only thing I have to give, but the thing she probably most needs. Space and time and quiet, until she’s ready to talk.

“My baby’s really gone?” she asks, so low that I can barely hear her.

“I’m sorry,” I answer, touching her hand as she closes her eyes. “I wish I’d known.”

_Why didn’t you tell me, Rosalie? They said you were far enough along that abortion wasn’t really an option anymore…if you’d made up your mind to keep it, why didn’t you tell me?_

There is a long silence then. Rosalie’s eyes are closed, and I can see the shiny tracks of tears running down her battered face. “It was Royce,” she says finally, her eyes still closed and her voice dull.

I don’t understand what she means at first. “Royce was the baby’s dad? I assumed so.” I’ve never really liked my sister’s boyfriend, but I can’t imagine that she’d cheat on him and get pregnant by someone else.

“No. I mean, yes, it was his baby but…this.” The hand she can still move twitches to indicate herself. “He did this. He and his friends, did this to me…”

The wave of rage that catches me is so strong I have to grip the sides of the hospital bed in my fists to stop myself from lashing out. Royce King did this? Royce, who I’ve known since we started high school? Royce, who I’ve watched since he first set eyes on Rosalie and decided he wanted her? He’s been in my home and in my car and in my sister’s _bed_ and now he’s turned on her and raped and beaten her near to death? _“Oh, Rosalie…”_

“Should’ve run the first time he hurt me,” Rosalie mumbles. “My fault Jasper…I was so stupid…”

“NO!” She grimaces as I put my hands on either side of her face even though I barely touch her, but at least she’s looking at me. “No way Rosalie…This is _not your fault_ , get it? You didn’t do anything wrong, NOTHING.”

But I don’t think she believes me, and then the nurse comes in and sees that Rose is awake and it all starts. The next few hours blur together as doctors come in and out, talking to Rosalie and testing and examining her, trying to talk to her about her injuries and the surgery. They’ve had to take out her uterus and her spleen and give her blood transfusions. Rosalie nods at them as they talk, but her eyes are blank and I know her well enough to know that she’s not taking any of this in. They’re telling her things she doesn’t want to hear and she’s putting all over her considerable determination into remaining oblivious.

Dad comes in and tries to be comforting, but he’s dad and can never say the right thing. Especially when the police enter the room and start asking questions and he finds out who did this. He gets so angry and vocally aggressive that one of the cops takes him out of the room and the other one is left alone to tease all the brutal, painful details out of Rosalie.

She remembers a lot.

I don’t want to listen but she holds my hand as tight as she can and so I have to sit there. I stare at our linked hands and keep my face calm, but I know that her hoarse, raspy voice telling all these terrible things is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

When the police have enough information they go, and after the doctors leave it’s just Rosalie and I. For a long time she closes her eyes, her hand still clutching mine, before she says quietly, “Can you help me get up? I need the bathroom.”

“Should I call the nurse? I don’t know…are you allowed?” Looking at her I don’t know how she can even move, let alone walk to the bathroom, and the thought of all the injuries hidden by the blanket right now makes me feel sick. “Just let me call someone.”

When the nurse comes in she says Rosalie can get up if she needs to, but take it slow and be careful. She asks me if I’d like to wait outside, and quite frankly I really would, but Rosalie is still holding my hand and the looks she gives me is hunted.

“No Jasper, please…don’t leave me alone.” Her voice shakes.

Oh fuck it. I stand up and between us the nurse and I help Rosalie through the long and painful process of sitting up and getting out of bed. She doesn’t make a sound, but as she sways on her feet she’s sweating with the effort and the tears are dripping down her face. The hospital gown isn’t tied properly and it’s half falling off her shoulder and as I pull it gently back into place I see the cut and grazes and bruising on her back. I also see the blood she’s left smeared on the bed.

Rosalie takes several tentative steps towards the bathroom but stops with a strangled cry of pain. The next thing I know she’s vomited, the black, sticky stuff splattering across the clean hospital floor. She must have swallowed a lot of blood. Rosalie moans, weakly, and the nurse standing on her other side puts out a hand to catch her if she falls. But this is my sister Rosalie and she’s drawing on every single ounce of pride and arrogance she has left to keep herself upright. I have little doubt she’ll succeed.

Never would I have imagined the agony possible in only a few feet of shuffling motion. By the time we reach the bathroom Rosalie’s breath is coming in soft, shallow moans and I have no idea how we’re going to get her back to the bed. Just when I think she’s had all she can take we go into the bathroom and, in a purely reflex action for my vain sister, she turns her head to the mirror and sees her own reflection. The bruising and swelling of her beautiful face, the dried blood matted into her tangled hair, the bandages and brace on the wrist she’s balancing so gently on my arm…Rosalie takes it in and her sobs rise to a scream.

“Oh god, Jas…” Rosalie gags and then vomits again, all semblance of control gone as she grabs at my arm and then screams in pain as she jolts her broken bones. “I can’t…god, it hurts so much! Make it stop…oh, shit…”

“It’s okay Rosie,” I say, but even I have tears in my eyes now. “It’s okay…” I hug her but she flinches away as my arm comes in contact with her bruised shoulder and I realise bleakly that I have nothing to offer her.

The nurse helps Rosalie over to the toilet so she can sit down, dropping her head forward so that her hair falls forward to cover her face. The nurse pushes an assistance button and a moment later I’m being gently but firmly bundled out of the way while the two of them start cleaning up the room and my sister.

Another nurse is stripping the bed, and she gives me a sympathetic look as I fall into the chair beside it. Tipping my head back I stare numbly at the ceiling. God, how are we going to get through this?

Dad comes back into the room, tossing the overnight bag he’s brought onto the end of the bed. “Where is she?”

“Bathroom,” I answer briefly.

Dad looks irritably at his phone. “I can’t get a straight answer out of those doctors as to how long she’s going to be in here. I’m being slammed at work right now, and I can’t exactly take too much time off…”

I can’t help glancing at my watch. The hospital phoned us at around 1am, Rosalie came out of surgery about two hours later…it’s only just after 7am now. Dad’s hardly missed ten minutes of his usual office time and he’s already bitching.

“So go to the office,” I say wearily. “I’m here, we’ll be fine.”

“Maybe that’ll be best,” Dad mutters. “If I go in now I can sort a few things out and then come back here at lunch. I’ll bring you something to eat.”

To stop myself from losing my shit at him I unzip the overnight bag and dig through what he’s put in there for Rosalie. Random handfuls of stuff from her drawers it looks like...does he really think that with stitches all up in her privates she’s going to want to wear thong underwear? The skimpy satin and lace nightwear that she likes but that embarrasses the hell out of me when she wears it around home…she can’t wear that in here. And how is she supposed to fit the t-shirts with long, tight sleeves over the wrist brace? Rolling my eyes at his thoughtlessness I shuffle through the clothes until I find some cotton panties, fleece pyjama pants and a soft tank top which I carry over to the bathroom.

I knock lightly on the door. The nurse opens it and I make a move to pass the clothes to her, but the door swings wide and I can’t help but see Rosalie and I stop dead, transfixed in horror. She’s in the shower, naked, but she’s never been shy and we share a bathroom at home…I’ve seen her plenty of times and it’s not the nudity that shocks me. It’s what they’ve done to her. Her whole torso is black and blue, a row of silver staples glinting on the left side of her belly where they’ve removed her spleen, three plastic wound dressings stuck on lower down, purple bruises on the pale skin of her arms and thighs that show clearly where hands have grabbed her too roughly. Even as I stare at her a dribble of blood runs down her thigh and as I raise my eyes to meet hers I can’t avoid the sight of a bite mark that’s sunk deep into the flesh of her breast.

It’s too much. This evidence of what they’ve done to her, so stark and brutal; the story of violence written across her previously unmarked skin is making me dizzy with horror. I thrust the clothes blindly at the nurse and turn away, stumbling over my own feet as I try to get away from what I already know I’m never going to forget.

Rosalie comes out of the bathroom dressed in the clothes I gave her, with her hair hanging in long, wet waves down her back. She moves stiffly, and I feel myself wincing in sympathy at the obvious pain she’s suffering. The nurse lowers the bed and I hear the tortured gasp of pain Rosalie makes as she sits down. Her eyes meet mine and I see her struggling against the shame that she shouldn’t be feeling.

“It’s okay,” I say to her, helping move her legs onto the bed and gripping her bare ankle as she eases back against the pillows. “You’re going to be fine Rosalie.”

She shakes her head and the tears slide silently down her cheeks. Rosalie has always been a drama queen, prone to fits of temper and dramatic sobbing when things go wrong, and I can only remember one other time I have seen her weep with such silent, hopeless grief. The day our mother died when we were eleven.

“The baby,” she says to me, her voice raw. “My baby…there is no okay Jasper, not anymore.” And she closes her eyes as her hand touches her belly and the tears seep out from underneath her lashes and run down her brutalised face.

_How the hell are we supposed to get through this?_


	55. Extra- Emmett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a more cute and fun extra chapter for you, after all the misery of Rosalie in hospital with the Jasper POV! This one is Emmett, and is just a brief look at the first time he saw Rosalie, and the way he and Alice and Edward found out they the two Hales were moving in.  
> I like writing scenes like this one, when two characters meet, from the other POV just to see how it works. I like writing about the way Emmett and Rosalie are each behaving and the reasons for it, and the way they’re interpreting each other as well. Anyway, it was fun to write and I had it on the computer so here you go.

It’s early evening in late summer, and I’m lying on the couch flipping through the cable channels and trying to ignore the rumbling of hunger in my belly. It’s nearly dinner time, but Carlisle and Esme have been shut in the study for the last couple of hours and there’s no sign of a meal.

“What’s going on?” Edward asks, coming downstairs and flopping into an armchair. He makes a futile grab at the remote control, but I don’t give it up. “Carlisle and Esme have been in the study all afternoon.”

“Don’t know.” I look at him hopefully. “Are you going to start dinner?” I’m really hungry.

Edward snorts. “Not likely. Alice, do you know what’s going on?”

“It’s about the Hales,” Alice says, pausing in whatever she’s doing on the computer. Alice never _seems_ to snoop or spy, but she always knows everything about everyone. She’s unbelievable. “The twins.”

Edward frowns. “What about them?”

We know who the Hale twins are, although we’ve never met them. Jack Hale was Carlisle’s college roommate and Rosalie and Jasper are his children, twins a year older than Edward and Alice and two years younger than me. They live in Rochester, in New York, and Carlisle and Esme stay with them every year when he goes to some medical conference there. Edward and Alice and I have never been though.

“They might be going to come and live here with us,” Alice says.

“What? Why?” I half sit up. It’s not that I _mind_ , exactly, but the situation seems kind of weird.

“Yes, why are they coming, Miss Marple?” Carlisle jokes, coming out of the study and ruffling Alice’s hair.

Alice grins at him unabashedly. “I didn’t hear that bit.”

Carlisle shakes his head and Esme clicks her tongue a little disapprovingly. “Well Alice was right- Rosalie and Jasper are going to come and stay here for their senior year of high school.”

“Why?” I want to know. It’s weird enough to change schools for senior year, let alone go to the other side of the country and stay with a family you hardly know to do it. I’m not sure that I want two other high school seniors living here while I struggle my way through another year. “Did something happen to Mr Hale?”

“No,” Carlisle hesitates. “Look, it’s a bit of a delicate situation. Rosalie was…assaulted…a few weeks ago and was injured pretty badly. She was hospitalised for a little while and, although she’s going to be fine, she’s been finding things difficult to cope with. You know the twins’ mother died when they were a lot younger and Jack works a lot…he’s been discussing it with us and thought maybe she’d find it easier to go somewhere new and start over, get away from things. Esme and I offered to have her here- she’s had a rough time and she might do well with more of a family around her. She didn’t want to leave Jasper, so we said we’d welcome both of them.”

“How cool!” Alice bounces in her seat. “I mean, that’s awful about Rosalie, but I’ve always wanted a sister. But what happened? Who attacked her? How was she hurt?”

“I don’t want you asking her about it,” Esme warns. “I know you don’t mean anything by your questions Alice, but it’s not always appropriate to ask. If Rosalie wants to tell you about what happened she will. Until then, you just respect her privacy please. That goes for all of you.”

I want to roll my eyes as Alice sits back in the armchair looking subdued. We’re not all as nosy as Alice. Not that I don’t want to know what happened, but as if I would ask!

We spend the next week getting the place ready for two more people to move in. At least, Alice and Esme do- they clear out the spare room and the upstairs study and redo them and Alice empties bucket loads of make-up and crap out of her bathroom so she can share it with Rosalie. I just move furniture when I’m told and cart out the trash and keep my mouth shut.

Alice can’t wait- she thinks having Rosalie around is going to be like it would be if her best friend Bella moved in, and that they’ll be having slumber parties every night. Edward is wary about the idea; he can be kind of uptight and not knowing the Hale’s I think he’s pretty anxious about how they’re going to impact on his very ordered life. I’m curious to meet them and interested to see how it goes but I do have my reservations, although considering the way Carlisle and Esme took in Alice and I all those years ago I can’t exactly complain about them giving someone else a helping hand and a place to stay.

Carlisle and Esme leave for the airport to pick them up before I wake up and they don’t get back until the afternoon. Alice runs out right away to say hi, and a minute later I head out when I hear Carlisle shout for me. I let the door fall closed behind me and then I just about fall down the steps because _sweet Jesus, look at her._

Rosalie Hale is _beautiful._ I didn’t think I’d ever see any girl so gorgeous outside my imagination, but now she’s standing right there in front of me with blonde hair falling halfway down her back and glinting in the sunlight, and the most perfect angel face in the world looking up at me. She’s wearing jeans that cling in all the right places and a black tank top that doesn’t show that much but makes you think it would be more than worthwhile to look if it did. The only thing that makes her look like a real person instead of an airbrushed magazine model is the pink cast that’s covering her left arm from knuckles to elbow.

My heart falls a little when I approach her and she literally backs away from me like she doesn’t want a thing to do with me. Her brother Jasper says hi but she doesn’t even smile as I grab two purple suitcases that I’m betting are hers.

“Are these both yours? I’ll take them upstairs?”

“Yes thanks Emmett,” Carlisle says. “Come inside everyone. Rosalie and Jasper, if you want to go with Alice and Edward they’ll show you to your rooms. You can unpack and settle in, or if you’re hungry you can come downstairs to the kitchen and get a snack.”

I take Rosalie’s suitcases upstairs and right into the closet. I hear Alice dragging her upstairs, talking all the time about what she’d done to the room and how much she hopes Rosalie likes it.

“Give it a rest, Alice,” I say, grinning affectionately at my little sister. I love her, but she doesn’t know when to stop sometimes. “Give her a chance to even look at it!” I smile at Rosalie, trying to get her to respond. “I put your cases in the closet.”

She doesn’t look at me as she mutters a thank you, and as I move closer to the door she moves away, maintaining the distance between us until she bumps into the desk. “It’s nice Alice, thank you.”

So it’s just me she doesn’t want to talk to. Okay then.

I don’t leave though. Instead I lounge against the doorframe, watching Rosalie as her eyes dart around the room, taking everything in. Alice shows her the bathroom, and it suddenly occurs to me that this beautiful girl is actually going to be living in this room, sleeping in that bed and showering in that bathroom, naked… _fuck, don’t think about that Emmett!_

“I haven’t shared a bathroom for a long time,” Alice tells her, “So I’m not sure how we’ll manage before school…we’ll work it out.”

“You’ll just have to spend less time fussing over your hair, pipsqueak,” I teased her.

“Oh, ha ha ha,” Alice says dismissively, poking her tongue out at me. “Go away. Rosalie and I are going to unpack her things and we don’t need you around.”

I could watch her all day but I laugh and leave them alone. Maybe once she’s settled in she’ll relax a bit. I hear Edward talking to Jasper down in the room we’ve set up for him so I lope down the hall to join them. Maybe he’ll be a bit more outgoing than his sister.

Rosalie hasn’t relaxed any by the time we sit down for dinner, which is one of Esme’s best. It’s so good that I’m on my second helping before I look across the table at Rosalie and realise that she’s barely eaten anything. I hope it’s just that she’s nervous and not that she’s neurotic about her weight- I was distracted by her boobs and ass and that perfect face when I first saw her, but close up she’s really a bit too skinny with the way her collarbones have shadows beneath them and her skin pulls tight over her elbows and wrist.

Esme notices at the same time and says quietly, “You’re not eating much Rosalie. Don’t you like it? You’re not vegetarian are you? Is there something else you would prefer?”

“No, it’s fine. I eat meat, it’s just that…I can’t…” her voice trails away to nothing and she kind of lifts her casted arm helplessly.

“Sorry, I didn’t think,” Jasper says quickly, and then no one says anything as he slides her plate over to him and he cuts her meat, because I guess she can’t handle a knife with her broken hand.

Rosalie stares at the table and apart from two spots of colour burning in her cheeks her face is white with strain. She looks like she’s barely holding it together and I think everyone is kind of uncomfortable with being confronted with the reality of her injuries. I can’t help but wonder how it happened. Carlisle said she was assaulted, which implies someone did it deliberately but it’s unfathomable to me that anyone could bring themselves to hurt her.

I don’t go to bed when the others do. I love staying up late during the summer, watching tv until the early hours in the morning and then sleeping until lunchtime. So I’m in the living room, stretched out on the sofa half asleep at about 2am when I notice a light flip on in the kitchen. It has to be Jasper or Rosalie. Carlisle or Esme would have told me to go to bed, Edward would have come to see what I was watching and Alice sleeps like the dead. I pad quietly out into the kitchen and over to the pantry to see who it is.

It’s Rosalie. She’s examining the box of teabags with her back to me, wearing short, pink sleeveless pyjamas that show off her long legs.

“What are you looking for?”

As she spins to face me the box of tea falls with a clatter and I want to kick myself when I see the look of sheer terror on her face because I’ve surprised her.

“Oh shit, sorry…I didn’t mean to scare you.” Feeling flustered I crouch down and start gathering up the scattered teabags because I don’t know what else to do. A moment later she kneels down beside me and starts helping. I wonder if she knows that I can see her hands trembling. Then I notice she’s not wearing a bra and for a moment I can’t think of much else but the shape of her breasts in her thin pyjamas and the way her nipples have gone hard in the cool pantry. _For God’s sake, get it together Emmett!_

“I’m sorry,” I repeat softly. “I thought you would have heard me coming. I just wanted to come and see what you were doing and if you needed anything.”

She turns away from me, dropping all the teabags she’s got in her hands and balanced on the cast on to the counter. “I just wanted a cup of tea,” she says, adding accusingly, “What are _you_ doing, sneaking around in the middle of the night?”

I laugh, delighted with this little bit of spit and fire. I’ve never had much use for girls who don’t challenge me, at least a little bit, and I like this evidence that Rosalie has a spirit to match her looks. “I was just watching tv and I thought I heard someone in here,” I tell her cheerfully. “You want something to eat with your tea?”

I look at the pantry shelves for a minute and then make a face. It’s all that organic, healthy stuff that Esme’s been pushing down our throats since we came here. It’s actually pretty good and fills you up when you’re hungry, but it’s not what you want for a late night snack. “Well, you don’t want anything that’s in here…Esme hides the good stuff.”

I go in the kitchen and reach up to the high cabinet that Esme sometimes hides the good snacks in so we don’t demolish them on grocery day. Rosalie’s in the doorway of the pantry, and I can feel her eyes on me. I know what it means when girls look at you like that. I hide my smile.

“When you’ve finished checking me out, I’ll have my tea black with sugar,” I say cheekily, and I’m rewarded when it catches her completely off guard. Her mouth drops open and then she turns back to the pantry in a hurry. I bite my lip so I don’t laugh, and then my groping hands find what I’m looking for in the cabinet. “Hey, score! I think Carlisle must have been doing good deeds…we’ve got peanut brittle and the fancy kind of chocolates that he’s always being given as gifts.”

I put them on the counter and then take a seat on one of the barstools, crossing my fingers that Rosalie’s going to join me. A moment later she comes out of the pantry carefully carrying a mug that she places in front of me, before she goes back for her own. She hesitates for a moment and then takes a seat. She’s gone for the barstool at the furthest end of the counter away from me but at least she’s willing to sit in the same room as me.

“Thanks,” I say, sliding the candy boxes closer to her. “Peanut brittle? Chocolate?” I take a sip of the tea and then make a face. “Is this Esme’s herbal stuff?”

“I guess. It was labelled ‘Sleepytime tea’.” Rosalie reaches towards the peanut brittle and then hesitates and goes for a chocolate.

 She’s so skittish! “Having trouble sleeping?” I ask. Instead of looking at her, I gaze out the window, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

“You’re still awake too,” she says defensively. Out of the corner of my eye I see her pick two chocolates and pop them both in her mouth.

“I like late-night tv,” I say lightly. “And it’s summer…may as well stay up late and then sleep late while I can. School starts next week.”

“Don’t remind me.” For a moment her face closes off, and then she goes back to the chocolates, matching the ones left to the pictures on the box. I notice that she likes the strawberry flavoured ones, and the more she eats and drinks her tea the more relaxed she seems.

“You’re a senior this year, right?” I ask

 “Yes. You are too?”

“Yep. It’d be hard starting over at a new school for the last year.” I say this a little hesitantly, not sure if this is going to be a sore spot for her.

“Better than staying where I was,” she says flatly.

“Forks High isn’t bad anyway,” I says. “Our football team sucks, but there’s some good kids.”

Rosalie’s face twists for a moment with some emotion that’s gone too quickly for me to name it, but then she grimaces.

 “Don’t you like football?” I ask with a grin.

“No,” she says quietly, “I don’t really like it.”

“Me either,” I say, and then laugh at the incredulous look on her face. “You assumed I played, right? It’s okay, everyone does. And I don’t mind messing around a bit, but baseball’s my sport.” I swallow the last dregs of tea and add absently. “Oh, and I wrestle.”

Rosalie spits her tea back into the mug.

“You think wrestling is funny?”

She looks at me with wide eyes. “I think it’s……you _really_ do wrestling? Like rolling around on the floor groping other guys? And you wear one of those…things?”

Oh hell, that stupid costume…“A singlet? Yes, I wear one…and I rock it out, I’ll have you know.”

For just a second she looks me full in the face, and then her eyes crinkle up and her mouth opens and she throws her head back so her hair swings and she laughs. And if there was ever any doubt, it’s gone.

_I’m in love with you, Rosalie Hale._

I take my mug and then reach across for hers when I see it’s empty, putting them both in the sink before I walk back towards the living room. I want to end this on a good note and she’s still going to be here in the morning. But I can’t resist teasing her just a little bit, so I throw out, “Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to see me in it one day.” I pause in the doorway, and look back at her, feeling warmth in my belly as I take in her long legs hooked around the barstool and the smile on her angel face. “Hey Rosalie?”

“Yeah?”

“I like the way you laugh.”


	56. Extra- Emmett 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some more Emmett POV- this is him and Rosalie after the Halloween party, when she tells him all about what happened to her. Big moment of trust for her, and not the easiest thing in the world for Emmett to hear and get his head around.

I follow her up the stairs, trying not to stare too hard at the curve of her ass under the short skirt of her ballet outfit. I don’t succeed very well…damn but she’s hot!

In her room the fairy lights are on over the bed, and I lean back against the door and watch as Rosalie sits down on her bed and bends forward to take off her shoes. I want to touch her so much…I can’t believe that after all this time I’ve finally kissed her.

Rosalie sighs as she pulls off her slippers and tosses them across the room. She flexes her feet and grimaces, and then starts taking the glittering snowflakes out of her hair, letting it all fall down her back in messy waves. She looks less perfect, more approachable with her hair out, and she gives me a smile as she says, “What are you doing?”

Well, she’s not kicking me out of her room, that’s good. I step out of my shoes and move across to stand in front of her, smiling even though I’m half embarrassed. “Well, I know what I _want_ to do…”

Rosalie grins, and touches her lip with the tip of her tongue as she rises gracefully to her feet. “Something like this?”

She kisses me, standing so close that I can feel her whole body touching me, breasts and hips and thighs pressed against me. My pulse races as I push my hands through her soft hair and hold her face to mine as I kiss her back, feeling her hands run across my chest and down my back. She hooks her leg around mine and then falls backwards onto the bed, taking me with her. She laughs breathlessly, and holy hell but I can’t resist her!

We’re kissing on the bed, bodies touching and hands roaming, first her on top then me, then side by side. I feel like I’m going to die or burst into flame with the sheer intensity of how this feels. Everything about her drives me wild, the taste of her on my tongue, the smell of her hair in my nose, the feel of her skin under my hands and her long legs wrapped around my hips, the sounds of her little purring growls and hitching breaths and whimpers of pleasure.

I love that she’s as in to it as I am, this hot, wet kissing and playful rolling around, as her hands run along my skin under my shirt and she pulls me towards her. Rosalie fumbles with my buttons until my shirt is undone and I sit up and fling it and my cape off, and then her hands are on me again, stroking and touching and squeezing, and she lowers her head and pushes her face into my neck and shoulder and kisses.

I’ve been touching her over and under her clothes, and now I start pulling on the dance clothes to get them out of the way, but for all my efforts I can’t get the damn thing off. There’s no buttons and no zips, and eventually I break away and look at her helplessly. “Jesus, how do you get this thing _off?_ Or is it some kind of chastity garment, because I can’t touch any _skin…_ ”

 Rosalie giggles breathlessly and then she stretches the neck out over her shoulders and I take hold of the stretchy leotard and her bra straps and pull them down as she wriggles her arms free. I can see the beautiful curves of her neck and back and belly and breasts…I can’t think for wanting her. I fumble with the hooks of her bra until it comes undone, freeing her breasts for my hands and mouth to play with. My eyes are closed, and there’s nothing in the world but the smell of her, the softness of her breasts in my hands and the puckered hardness of her nipple in my mouth. I’m grinding against the bed and as I hear her breathless, whimpering moans as I suck hard at her breast and then circle and flick her nipple with my tongue, and I think if this keeps going on I’m going to come in my pants.

But then I hear a noise from her that’s closer to horror than pleasure and she jerks away from me and I blink wildly into the brightness as I open my eyes and look at her. She’s curled away from me, arms wrapped around herself, and as she shivers I realise that she’s crying.

“Rosalie, oh Rosa girl, fuck…I’m sorry, I didn’t…what is it? Beautiful girl, don’t cry, please don’t cry….” Jesus, what have I done? Where has this sudden storm come from? I lean over her, curving my back around hers, rubbing her arms and kissing her shoulder and neck and anywhere else I can reach. “What is it? What happened? Oh god Rosalie, I love you, I do…”

I hear her words, a toneless repetition of the same word that I don’t even think she knows she’s saying. “Can’t, can’t, can’t, can’t…”

“Can’t what?” I touch her lips with my fingers, wanting her to come back to herself and look at me and tell me what on earth is hurting her this bad. “Can’t what? Rosalie, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to…please Rosa girl, talk to me. I love you, I love you…” And my voice breaks, because I _do_ love her, and I’m so afraid I’ve rushed her or hurt or done something wrong that’s made her feel this pain.

She rolls back towards me in a rush, butting me hard in the chest with her head, burrowing into me frantically. I wrap my arms around her, feeling the pounding beat of her heart and the dreadful shiver of her body as she sobs. These are not easy tears or gentle sorrow, this is just raw, brutal grief and I want to tear my heart out as I hold Rosalie tight while she suffers.

I don’t know how long I hold her. I don’t know how long it takes for her sobs to slow and then stop, but I keep my arms around her and stroke her silky hair and down the lines of her back, waiting for her to come back and talk to me.

“I’m sorry,” she says at last.

I don’t need or want an apology. I kiss her on her forehead, almost hesitantly. I want to pour out all the love and affection I have for this brittle, secretive girl, but I don’t know what she wants from me or what might have brought up her pain. “I mean it, Rosalie,” I say softly. “I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you.” It’s all I can give her, this verbal assurance, and I hope she believes in the truth of it.

“What happened?” I ask uncertainly, as she sits beside me, her arms still wrapped defensively across her chest. “Please tell me what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Her voice is hoarse with crying and clogged with tears. “I was just scared that you’d see.”

And she drops her arms and shows me her breasts, and it’s not the creamy, full perfection of them or the delectably kissable pink nipples that catch my attention first, but the vivid purple crescent moon shaped scar that marks one of them. The ugliness of it, the harshness of it against the soft flesh is shocking, and I swallow.

I reach towards her but stop before I can touch her. “You didn’t want me to see that? Is that…” _Is that a fucking BITE mark?_

Her face is blank as she nods, staring at me.

I make myself touch it, the skin feeling raised and slightly rough under my fingertips as I brush across it, before I reach down and take her hands, holding them tight. “Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore,” she says hopelessly. “It just…looks…bad, now.”

“You’re beautiful.” The words don’t sound like enough, not when I look at her and see so much more than beauty. “Whatever…you’re beautiful.” Softly, tenderly, I cup her marked breast in my hand and press my lips to the scar. Close up I can see the ridges of the teeth marks and I close my eyes against the sight. _Beautiful girl…what happened to you?_

Like she hears me Rosalie bends her head over mine and holds me close as she breathes out the truth she has kept hidden for so long. “I was raped.”

I’m not surprised. I guess I have always thought that it was possible, but I have never wanted to think about what that means in reality for this girl that I’m now cradling in my arms. “Oh Rosa girl…My beautiful, beautiful girl…” I don’t know what to say, but we slide down until we’re lying together again and I hold her like I never want to let her go.

“Can I tell you about it? It’s not…not _nice_ , but…”  Her blue eyes are looking at me, swimming with tears, and her face is taut.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s not nice” I say gently. “It’s your story. I want to know all your stories…even this one.”

Truthfully I don’t know if I DO want to know this story. The idea of someone hurting her makes me want to go out and kill someone. Rape, this taking something that should only be a cause of pleasure and joy and using it as a weapon, makes me feel sick and I don’t know if I can stand to hear her tell me about that being done to her. But this isn’t about me, not at all, this is about Rosalie and what she wants and needs, and right now she wants to talk. So I settle her more comfortably into my embrace and rest my cheek against the top of her head and whisper, “Tell me.”

And she does.

“I started dating Royce at the beginning of junior year,” she begins, “He was a year older than me and one of those people who seem to have everything- he was good looking and popular, played football, got good grades, had a fancy car and all daddy’s money and influence behind him…you know the type. I made varsity cheerleading and he was football captain and so we were often at the same parties and hanging out with the same people. We flirted a lot- he wanted me, but he was a player and I wasn’t interested in just being another conquest. I thought I was better than that.”

“He saw it as a challenge I guess, because he didn’t leave me alone. And I was flattered, and naïve and stupid… In the end I gave in and we went out and then became a couple.” She sighs. “I thought I had it all. I was pretty and popular, I was a cheerleader, my grades were good, and I was dating this guy that all the other girls would have killed to go out with, but he wanted me. We went out a lot, went to all the parties together, to junior and senior prom together…from the outside it all looked perfect.”

She stops for a moment, chewing anxiously on her lip. I touch her mouth gently, and she stops, and I’m glad. “You don’t have to talk about any of that if you don’t want to,” I tell her. “I’ll always listen, but you don’t have to do it all today.”

“No, I want to.” She rests her head against my shoulder and is quiet for a long moment, before she goes on, her voice quieter than before. “It wasn’t as perfect as it looked. Royce could be…difficult. He had an awful temper and we fought a lot, when no one else was around. He was the first person I slept with, and sex became a big point of contention. He hurt me a couple of times.”

I can’t stop the shudder. The idea of Rosalie being in any way naked and vulnerable and some asshole taking advantage of that to hurt her…I grit my teeth. In my arms, Rosalie laughs mirthlessly. “You must think I’m an idiot for letting it go on… _I_ think I’m an idiot for letting it go on! But everyone always said how good we were together, he could be so charismatic and whenever he did anything to me he was always so sorry and did what he could to make it up to me. By the time I realised how bad things really were, I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t so simple just to get away.”

“Early in the summer I tried to break up with him,” Rosalie says carefully. “I thought it would work- he was going to be going away to college after vacation and I’d still be in Rochester for senior year. I knew we weren’t good together, and I thought breaking up was the best thing to do. Royce didn’t agree.”

She takes a deep breath. “I visited a friend the night it happened. She was at school with me but had dropped out to have a baby, so we didn’t see that much of each other. I stayed late talking with her and playing with the baby, and then rather than wait for a cab I decided to talk home.”

“They caught up with me only a few streets away. Royce and a few of his friends. I wasn’t scared at first, he was supposed to be my _boyfriend_ , but then he pulled me into the park and hit me and… Royce went first, and then the others. I tried to fight them off and I screamed and screamed for someone to help me…but it didn’t make any difference.” She’s crying now, tears dripping down her face and making her shoulders shake. “It hurt so much. The rapes, and then the beating…I thought I was going to die. I nearly _did._ I don’t remember being found in the park or being taken to the hospital, but when I got there I went straight into surgery so they could stop all the internal bleeding and try to…try to…fix what they’d done to me.”

 “Damn it, baby, fuck them…” My voice is choked with tears of sorrow for this beautiful, broken girl who now makes so much more sense to me, tears for all the pain she went through…but I’m so angry, so _fucking_ furious that animals like that exist, and do things like that, that I can’t let my tears go. Instead I rock Rosalie gently back and forth in my arms as she struggles for a moment to gain control over herself. “I wish I had something to say…sweet Jesus, I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It was big news locally,” she tells me “They were arrested right away, I knew who they were and there was physical evidence to back it up, although a lot of it was lost or compromised because of the immediate surgery. Royce’s dad was very well known and had a lot of influence, and he hired the most expensive scum sucking lawyers he could to get Royce off.”

“But surely…” Jesus, they raped her and beat her nearly to death…what can a lawyer do for that?

Her smile is bitter. “Surely they wouldn’t get off? No, but he was going to get the lightest sentence he could and ruin me in the meantime. They told the police the sex was consensual and that they didn’t know who beat me up. You know, there are laws to protect underage rape victims’ privacy, but it didn’t make any difference. Royce’s name was out there, and everyone who knew us knew it was me.

“They had pictures they took on their phones from that night that they said showed I was enjoying it and that the violence must have come later, and they sent those pictures to everyone in school. There was an anonymous blog that everyone was reading- the prom queen and the football hero and look at us now. I don’t even know who was behind it, but they had a lot of other photos…mostly just stuff like me in my bikini that was totally innocent, but with all the things that they were saying it looked like something else. They found some modelling photos I’d done when I was fifteen when I won this contest- it was stupid, you couldn’t see _anything_ , but I mean technically I wasn’t wearing any clothes.

“I was the victim, but everything they were saying about me and about what I had done with Royce...I hadn’t done anything wrong, but it was like it was all my fault anyway. It was just horrible, and I couldn’t deal with it at all. I told my dad that I wasn’t ever going back to school, and I guess that’s when he got together with Carlisle and Esme and thought I should come here.”

“So what happened to them?” My voice is shaking as ridiculous, crazy thoughts of revenge flickered through my head. I’ve always thought the world was a pretty good place, but this…

“They plea-bargained,” she says flatly. “They got some jail time and I got to skip going through the hell of a trial. I don’t know if it was worth it. But nothing that the courts could have done to them would have even come close to making up for what they did to me. I might have won at trial, but it wouldn’t have made any difference really…I’d already lost in all the ways that mattered.” There’s a long silence.

“Thank you for telling me,” I say hoarsely. “I didn’t know it was like that. I had no idea it was that bad…” I catch her mouth in mine and kiss her, softly and questioningly. “I love you,” I say simply. “I understand more now about why you’re the way you are and I love you Rosalie…I don’t ever want to do anything that hurts you, or that you don’t want to do.”

It’s true too. Yeah, most of my fantasies since she turned up have involved Rosalie wearing even less clothing than she is right now and the two of us doing unspeakable things to each other, but I know without doubt that I am never going to push anything on her that might cause her pain.

She looks at me for a moment and then she smiles, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so fucking sexy and beautiful in my life. She doesn’t say anything but she leans across me and kisses me. I can feel the softness of her breasts against my chest and I run my hands down the curve of her back to her hips and kiss her, and then we’re back where we were before- deep wet kisses and exploring hands and _oh god, yes, more of that…_

Rosalie rolls onto her back and grabs me by my pants, kissing me aggressively as she pulls me over her until my cock, uncomfortably contained by my pants, is nestled in between her legs. She wriggles underneath me, rocking her hips up until she hits the right spot for her and then both of us are rubbing and thrusting against each other until we’re breathless.

I’m not even thinking about going further when I feel her hands on my buttons, but I can’t hold back the groan of relief and anticipation as she opens my pants. She slides her hands inside and then her fingers wrap around my cock and she’s squeezing and touching as I push up into her hands, and it’s all so good.

“Oh damn, Rosa girl…” I’m panting, my head back and my eyes closed as she moves her hands as much as she can inside my boxers. “Oh, that’s good,” I mutter. “That’s so good, that’s…oh Rosalie, I’m going to…”  I can feel all my muscles clench and my balls tighten as I hurtle towards orgasm.

“I want you to,” she whispers, and I open my eyes and look at her as she bites her lip and smiles at me.

She’s so sexy, and I’m so wound up that the instant she slides her hand down my shaft and cups my balls in her fingers I come, shuddering as the force of it tears through me. I can feel it, wet and sticky up across my belly and I know I’ve come all over her hand, but for a moment I’m so blissed out that I just hold her. When Rosalie rests her head on my chest and wipes her hand across my leg I laugh, half embarrassed.

“Sorry about the mess,” I say, and make a face. “You want to have a bath?”

“What, together?” She sounds surprised.

“Sure.” I grin, imagining having her wet and naked in the tub with me. “It’ll be fun.” I go into the bathroom she shares with Alice and flip on the faucets. “Come on, Rosalie!”

I leave the tub running and head to my room, stripping off my damp, sticky pants and boxers and throwing them onto the pile of other dirty clothes mouldering in the corner of my room. I make a mental note to try and get all that to the laundry tomorrow, before Esme takes it upon herself to clean up after me.

Rosalie, her hair now bound up on top of her head, is already in the water. I’m half disappointed that she’s thrown in some bubbles and I can’t see her naked, but I forget about that pretty quickly once I’m in the water and she’s sitting in between my legs and her entire, exquisite body is right there for the touching.

I start with her back, rubbing slow circles with the face washer, humming softly as I feel the tension leave her body. Her breath deepens and I pull her backwards, and without hesitation she lies back against my chest, her head tipped back against my shoulder. We didn’t turn the light on, and in the hot water and dim, dark steamy air Rosalie sighs and closes her eyes, half floating as I support her and continue my gentle washing of her body.

I stroke my way down her arms, taking her limp hands in mine and washing each finger. You can’t tell which one was hurt now, both arms feel strong and smooth under my hands. For a moment she curves one arm around to hold my face, and I lean towards her head and kiss her forehead before I continue moving the soft face washer over her body, brushing along her graceful neck and down to her breasts.

Already the sight of the scar there has lost its power to shock me. It is simply there, part of her, a mark of her strength in what she has lived through, and I pay it no more or less attention than I do the rest of her breasts. Her belly is next, the flat, muscled belly that I know she’s proud of, even with the scars that mark that too. Then her hips and thighs and the cleft in between them, and when I get there I let the face washer float away and I use my hands.

Her head is on my shoulder, her back lolling against my chest, and as I touch her I watch her for any signs that she wants me to stop. But she stays relaxed, and then she goes a step further and shifts her legs so that they’re lying outside mine and she’s all opened up for me.

I’m not a virgin and I’ve been with girls before, but I’ve never touched a girl like this. Not this slow, gentle caress as I learn my way around her body. I’ve never paid so much attention to even the tiniest reaction from a girl when I’m with her as I am right now with Rosalie, taking in every single shiver and moan and hitching breath, adjusting what I’m doing to try and elicit those same responses again.

“You’re beautiful,” I whisper into her ear. “You are so beautiful, and so perfect, and damn I love you…I love you.” I’ve got one hand at her breasts, playing with her nipples, while my other hand is in rubbing her in between her legs. Rosalie’s thighs are quivering on either side of mine. “Tell me what you want,” I mumble into her hair. “Tell me what you like baby…I want to make you come but I don’t know enough. Tell me…”

I’m so close to her I can feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “Don’t be embarrassed,” I tell her in between kisses. “I want to know. I want to make you feel good.” I pinch her nipple, harder than I have before, and she moans.

“I like that,” she breathes.

“And…this?” I have my thumb on her clit and I curve my fingers around to slide one inside her. “Is this…”

“Yes!” she yelps. “Yes...just…more…”

She stutters to a stop as I move my fingers and then I don’t need words because the movement of her hips and the rapid, shallow moans tell me all that I need to know about how much she likes what I’m doing. So I keep going, a little bit faster and a little harder until she clamps her thighs together and stuffs her fist in her mouth to stop herself from making a noise as she comes, her body shuddering and quivering in my arms.

“I love you,” I murmur fervently, kissing her hair as she slumps back into my arms. She is so beautiful, and I can’t think of anything else I could be doing that would be better than holding Rosalie in my arms like I am right now.

She shivers again, and I see her mouth tremble as she says softly, “I can’t have babies anymore.”

Her pain in almost palpable, and I tighten my arms around her. “Because of what they did? But you can…I didn’t hurt…” I feel panic tighten in my belly. I’ve just had my fingers all over her, inside her- please don’t let me have hurt her. I just wanted her to feel good.

“I can have sex. The way you touched me then was fine, the surgeons fixed everything there. But when it happened…I was pregnant. About sixteen weeks. That’s what really made me decide to break it off with Royce- I couldn’t raise a baby with someone like that. I guess he decided I wasn’t going to raise a baby without him either…he beat me badly enough that I miscarried the baby, and because of how violent it was and just my own shitty luck, I haemorrhaged and they took out my uterus. It was a one in a million thing, it hardly ever happens like that, but…it happened to me.”

“I’m sorry.” _Jesus fucking Christ, she lost a baby, along with everything else…_ I don’t stop touching her, still learning my way around all her sensitive and ticklish places. “I guess you wanted that then.”

“Yeah.” She laughs a little, but I hear the choke in it. “I didn’t go around saying it or anything. I certainly never meant to get pregnant in high school. I was going to go to college and all that first but I always knew I wanted babies. Always. I wanted what I didn’t have- a regular family where the mom wasn’t sick and the dad didn’t work all the time. It doesn’t seem like that much to ask for, you know? But I can’t have it.”

Oh, Rosalie…I would give her the world if I could, but her words have opened up a future in which her deepest wish is always going to go unfulfilled. At least the way she wants it- I know better than most that there’s a lot more to making a family and being a mother than birthing a baby, but that isn’t what she needs to hear now.

Instead I kiss her closed eyelids and tell her again, my voice hoarse with sincerity, how very much I love her and how perfect she is, just the way she is. Scars and damage and baggage…nothing can take away from how extraordinary she is.

We stay in the tub while the water cools. Rosalie is half asleep and when I eventually prompt her to get out she is nearly swaying with exhaustion as I wrap her up in towels and pat her dry.

I don’t want to leave her. She has given me so much tonight- her body and her heart, all of it laid bare for me – and I know how much that effort is has cost her. “Can I stay with you tonight?” I ask, and I’m so scared that she might say no that my voice is nearly shaking. “I don’t want to do anything, I just want to be with you.” She nods and I dimple at her. “Okay, I’m just going to go find some clothes. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I throw on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and head immediately back to Rosalie’s room. She’s in bed and I slide in beside her, not able to stop the sigh of pleasure I make when my arms go around her, feeling the warmth of her bare arms and legs. She doesn’t open her eyes, but she smiles and wriggles more comfortably against me until we’re curled together like spoons, her back against my chest and her ass nestled firmly against my thighs.

I can’t not react to being wrapped around a girl in bed wearing only shorts and a camisole, and I have to adjust myself so that my cock is lying up against her back rather than trying to get in between her legs. I was serious about not wanting into her bed with any other motive than just to be with her, and as she relaxes into me and I feel her ribs rising and falling steadily under my arms I wouldn’t be anywhere else. 


	57. Extra- Little Emmett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last extra chapter and it’s little Emmett talking about when he first came to the Cullen’s house. I wrote the first one when I was thinking up Emmett’s backstory and how he and Alice would have come to be adopted by Carlisle and Esme, and I wrote the second one when he was telling Rosalie about stealing Edward’s train.  
> It’s strange and incredibly difficult to attempt to write like a child thinks! One of my kids is seven, and he’s at this weird point where he can be surprisingly capable and self-sufficient in certain ways and yet still be such a baby in other ways. So I sort of had him in mind when I wrote this although, since we send our kids to school and don’t deal drugs and beat our kids and neglect them, little Emmett is also quite different to my child!

I can’t go to sleep. This house is too quiet.

I sit up in bed. There is a little light shaped like a rocket that’s plugged into the wall so I can see that boy Edward asleep in the other bed. I don’t know if I like Edward. He is nearly as big as me even though he’s only five and I’m seven. His eyes are green and his hair is coloured like rust but shiny. I wish it was Alice in that bed asleep but she’s in the hospital.

I wonder if Alice is awake in the hospital. If she is I bet she misses me. I bet she wishes we were at home together with Momma, and she wasn’t in that hospital and I wasn’t here in this strange house with Esme from the food pantry and Dr Carlisle and that boy Edward.

Thinking about Alice makes me feel funny in my stomach. She’s never been anywhere without me and I know if she wakes up in the hospital and I’m not there she’s going to be really scared. She might cry. She cries a lot, which is sometimes annoying but she’s only four and that’s still kind of a baby. I’m seven and that’s too big to be a crybaby. Alice likes me best of anyone and she likes to be with me so she follows me everywhere. Even when I go and climb the big trees and she’s too scared to climb she brings her dolls or her toys and plays on the ground nearby.

When I went and asked Esme to help me this morning I didn’t know she would make Alice go to the hospital, and that the police would go and take Momma to jail and I would have to come here and stay at this house. I didn’t know any of that would happen! I only wanted someone to come and make Alice wake up and not be sick, and Esme was the only grown-up I could think of to ask.

Grandma used to look after me and Alice when we were sick. Grandma used to fix everything when Momma wasn’t good. But then Grandma died and Mark moved in and now Momma isn’t good lots of the time and there’s no one else to help me.

This morning when I got out of bed Alice was already in the living room, but she was asleep on the sofa. There was a glass and a plate on the floor next to her, but it wasn’t the Sesame Street plate and the yellow cup with the handles that we’re supposed to use. Instead she used one of the plates and a glass that’s always around when Mark is cooking drugs. I know they’re not safe and I never use them or let Alice use them either, but now that she’s four she thinks she’s big enough to get her own food. Even though she’s not, because when I looked at her this morning she wouldn’t wake up and her skin was cold and sticky and her lips were blue like she was wearing a lipstick.

At first I thought Alice was dead like Grandma and I nearly started screaming, but then she made a funny noise and I knew she was just bad sick. But I was still really scared and she wouldn’t wake up and I didn’t know what to do. Momma and Mark were smoking with the glass pipe last night and I knew they wouldn’t be good for anything. The only grown-up I could think of who might help was Esme, because she always smiles nice and talks to me and Alice when we go to the food pantry. She wasn’t supposed to give us anything when I went in without Momma but when I said that Momma was sick and couldn’t come Esme made us some sandwiches. Once she even gave Alice a new dress with spots on it.

Esme _did_ come and see Alice when I asked her to help this morning. But instead of fixing her up she called the ambulance and Alice had to go to the hospital and see her husband Dr Carlisle, and I had to sit in the waiting room for hours and hours before the doctor told me that Alice wasn’t dead. Then the police came and they said Momma was at the police station and me and Alice couldn’t go home and I had to come here to Esme’s house with her.

I climb out of the brown wood bed and tiptoe out of the bedroom. Edward doesn’t wake up. In the hallway I can look through the rails on the stairs and see that Esme and Dr Carlisle are downstairs in the sitting room. There is some music playing and they are talking but their voices are too quiet for me to hear the words.

This house is nice. It smells good and the rooms are big and the rug is soft under my feet. There are lots of toys and a million books everywhere and when I peeked into the fridge it was full of food piled right to the top. Everything is very clean.

I might like it here if Alice was here too. And if I didn’t get a stomachache and feel like maybe I might cry when I think about Momma at the police station.

Even I’m very clean now because Esme made me have a bath right away. She made me scrub my hands and feet and she washed my hair with shampoo so that now I smell like apples and my hair is all curly and springy over my head. She gave me some pyjamas with spacemen on them to wear. They are soft and nice, but I know that they really belong to that boy Edward and he doesn’t want me to wear his pyjamas.

I wonder what I’ll wear tomorrow. Today I was wearing my blue shorts and my Spiderman t-shirt and the red sweater with the pattern of twisty ropes on it that Grandma really knitted for Momma but that I like to wear, but when I took them off to have a bath Esme took them away. I don’t know if she washed them or threw them away because they were too dirty for her clean house.

I don’t even have any shoes because I couldn’t find them this morning and I was in a hurry to go and find some help. But maybe tomorrow Alice will be better and we can go home and I can find my sneakers. I think I left them down at the river, and if I don’t get them back before Momma notices I’m going to be in big trouble.

I lie down on the floor, resting my chin on the soft rug so I can see better into the living room. It’s lonely without Alice, and that boy Edward is sleeping but he isn’t my friend anyway. I think about maybe going downstairs, but I don’t want Esme or Dr Carlisle to yell or hit. They put me in the bed with the dinosaur blanket and told me to go sleep, and I don’t know if you’re allowed to get out of bed in this house. I don’t know what happens here if you do something bad.

I wonder if Alice is hungry. Dr Carlisle said if she woke up they would give her food, but she’s only little and she’s too shy to talk to strange people so they might forget. I chew on the sleeve of the pyjamas. I always take care of Alice and I don’t know if she’ll know what to do when I’m not there. Esme took me to the restaurant at the hospital for lunch today, and I tried to take a cup of pudding to give to Alice. I hid it in my pocket but then the policeman came to talk to Esme and I was scared he was going to make me go to jail so I gave it back. I wish I’d kept it for Alice now. I wish I was at the hospital with her and could know that she is okay.

“You can come downstairs Emmett.”

It’s Esme. I peek through the rails and she’s smiling her nice smile so I don’t think she’s mad. I crawl on the rug to the stairs and start to bump down on my bottom but that hurts so I get up and walk down properly.

“Can’t go to sleep buddy?” Dr Carlisle says. “Is there something you need?”

I sit on the bottom step and chew on the pyjama sleeve. “This house is very quiet,” I tell him. “At my house I watch tv when I go to bed, but there’s no tv in that bedroom here.”

“No, there’s not,” Esme says. She’s knitting something with brown wool, but I can’t tell what it is.

“My grandma can do knitting,” I say to her, and then realise that I said it wrong. “She _could_ knit, but now she’s dead.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Esme says. She shows me her knitting. “I’m making a sweater for Edward.”

It doesn’t have fancy twisty ropes on it like my sweater, but it looks warm and cosy. I wonder how I will ever get new sweaters now that my grandma is dead, and bite down hard on the pyjama sleeve. It’s starting to feel warm and wet on my wrist.

“Would you like a glass of warm milk?” Dr Carlisle asks me. “You could sit here on the sofa and drink it and then maybe lie down and watch some tv here for a little while, until you’re tired enough for bed.”

I nod, and when Dr Carlisle goes into the kitchen I go and sit on the sofa, scrunching up very small in the corner far away from where Dr Carlisle was. He gives me a cup that’s decorated with Santa, even though it’s summer, and the milk is warm and good.

Esme is still knitting, and Dr Carlisle turns off the music on the big stereo and turns on the tv. He flips through all the channels and stops on one that has a show about animals, and then he leans back in the sofa and watches.

“I think Alice wants me at the hospital,” I say. My voice comes out very tiny and I hold the Santa cup tight. “I don’t think she likes it there by herself. She’s scared.”

Dr Carlisle gives me a little smile. “It’s okay Emmett,” he says. “Alice had some extra medicine and I bet she’ll be asleep all night. The nurses will watch her, and when she wakes up in the morning they’ll give her some breakfast, and after that Esme will take you to visit.”

“What about my Momma?” The words fly out of my mouth so fast that they sound funny, and I feel so scared of what Dr Carlisle might say that my stomach hurts. “Where’s my Momma?”

Carlisle closes his book and Esme puts down her knitting and they both look at me with serious faces. I put down the Santa cup and scrunch down even smaller, chewing on my sleeve. I’m so scared it feels like something very heavy is sitting on my chest and squashing out all my breath.

“I think your mother might still be talking to the police,” Dr Carlisle says. “She’s in a bit of trouble Emmett.”

“She can’t help it!” I say loudly. “Momma does what she has to do.’” That’s what she always says to me. My eyes feel all prickly with tears and I blink fast because I don’t want them to see.

“It’s okay Emmett,” Esme says. “We know you love your mother and I’m sure she loves you. But she hasn’t been…she’s had trouble taking good care of you and Alice since your grandma died. The police found lots of things at your house that weren’t safe to be in a house with children, and so they’re asking your mother about those things, and about what’s been happening with you and Alice.”

“Is my momma going to jail?” I’m almost as scared as I was this morning when I thought Alice was dead. My momma is sometimes sick, and when she smokes ice she can be mean and kind of crazy, but if she goes to jail then who will look after me and Alice?

“We don’t know,” says Dr Carlisle. “We’re going to tell you the truth about what’s happening when we know, but right now no one knows for sure. But for the time being you’re going to stay here with us.”

I hold on tight to my stomach, because it hurts. I wish my momma was here with me…my nice momma, not the way she is when she uses ice with Mark.

“Is Mark going to jail too?” I hope he is. Mark lives in our house now but he’s not my dad. He cooks crystals in the kitchen and people come and buy it from him. Sometimes those people are scary and Alice and I hide under the porch so they won’t see us, but we can’t hide from Mark all the time. Sometimes he’s nice and calls me kid and gives me chewing gum, but he yells a lot and when he’s mad he hits. He doesn’t just use his hand like Momma does either, he hits with his belt or a stick or anything. Last time he hit me he made marks like stripes all over my butt and legs that are still there. At the hospital today Dr Carlisle saw them and took a picture and his face looked so mad I was scared. But he wasn’t mad at me, and he gave me jellybeans and let me listen to my heart with his stethoscope so it was okay.

“Yes, Mark will be going to jail,” Dr Carlisle tells me. “No one is allowed to make and sell drugs like he was doing, and no one is allowed to hit anyone like he hit you.”

If Mark is gone then it will be better at home. Before Mark came Momma used to mostly smoke weed, and that made her happy and laughing and then we would always have McDonalds and cookies. But then Mark gave Momma ice and that makes her mean and crazy and she doesn’t get us McDonalds and sometimes she forgets to buy food at all.

“You look very tired Emmett,” Esme says. “Why don’t you lie down on the sofa and watch some tv and see if you can go to sleep?”

I _am_ tired. My eyes hurt and my head is starting to feel all fuzzy like I can’t think properly. But I don’t know about this house and I don’t know what happens here and if I close my eyes and go to sleep then anything might happen to me.

Esme looks in a cupboard and brings out a blanket knitted out of fuzzy blue wool. This house is warmer than my home and the spaceman pyjamas mean I’m not cold, but the blanket feels nice and cosy when Esme tucks it round me. When she gives me a cushion I lie down on the sofa and rub the soft blanket on my face.

The animal show on tv is about lions, and I watch the baby lions play around their mommas. I wish I was a lion. They’re big and strong and no one tells them what to do. The baby lions tumble all over each other and play chase and fight over bones that their mommas give them, and I wish Alice was here to see this because it would make her laugh. The baby lions practise pouncing in the grass, and I squirm along the couch and stretch out and pretend that I’m a lion too, all stretchy in the sun.

Then I feel someone touching my hair and I get such a fright that I just about scream, but it’s only Dr Carlisle and he doesn’t want to hurt me. He isn’t mad that I’m still awake and pretending to be a lion on the sofa instead of staying in the bed with the dinosaur blanket. I peek at him from under the fuzzy blue blanket and he gives me a little smile and then goes back to reading his book, but his hand stays on my head, combing my hair with his fingers to make it straight then letting it go so it all boings back curly. My Grandma used to do that, and it makes me feel safe and good. My eyelids are so heavy I can’t keep them open anymore. I wrap the blanket around me like it’s a cocoon to keep me safe, and then as Dr Carlisle keeps on rubbing my hair I let myself go to sleep. I can fix everything tomorrow.  

 

 

* * *

 

“Emmett honey, do you want something to drink? Or eat? I can get you a piece of fruit from the kitchen.” Mara is looking over her desk at me. I know she feels sorry for me because I’ve been waiting a long time and probably Momma isn’t coming. Again.

I shake my head and scrunch down further in the chair. The hard plastic digs into my back and I wonder if it will leave a mark, a bruised line like someone hit me. But no one hits me now.

There’s some magazines on the table next to my chair and I look at them and see how many words on the cover I can read. I know some, but most of them are too hard. I bet Edward could probably read them all. He reads much better than me, even though he’s only in kindergarten and I’m in first grade.

I have to practise reading every day. Esme holds up the cards with the words on them and I have to say them if I can, and then we read the little books my teacher at school gives me. I don’t like them- the words are hard and the stories are dumb. Edward’s books are bigger and have more words and he doesn’t think it’s hard at all. Alice has little books like me but she likes them. And when Esme holds up the cards for me Alice always knows what those words are.

I don’t think it’s fair that I’m bigger and older and in first grade but they can read better than me.

Alice didn’t come today. She’s supposed to but she doesn’t want to visit with Momma and if they try and make her she cries and screams and sometimes runs away. Last time she came she screamed and shouted and Momma smacked her and Mara made Momma leave and everyone was crying except me. Now Mara and Esme say it’s okay if Alice doesn’t come to visit for a little while. 

If I sit a little bit sideways I can see into the playroom. I could go and play if I want to, but I’m just going to sit right here in my chair and wait for Momma. Besides, Mikayla and Tara are in there. They’re here nearly every week and I don’t like them. They wouldn’t share the dollhouse with me and Alice and they’re always showing off because their dad comes for visiting every week and brings them presents all the time. Sometimes our Momma doesn’t come, or she’s late, and sometimes she’s acting funny and Mara gets mad and makes her leave, but their dad never does anything like that.

I don’t know my dad. Momma says he’s a fucking deadbeat asshole and we’re better off without him, but sometimes I think it might be good to see him. Momma says he has the same name as me. Maybe he has a beard and would bring presents and play baseball with me.

Sometimes I wish Carlisle was really my dad. He plays baseball with me. He taught me how to swing the bat and make the ball go flying across the yard. Then I got too good and all the balls kept going over the fence into the neighbour’s yard so now we go and play at the park and I can hit it as hard as I want. Sometimes there are other kids there and they play too, but I like it better when it’s just me and Carlisle. He said that maybe in the spring I can play in the Little League and I’ll get to wear a real baseball uniform and be in a competition.

I’m better at baseball than Edward. He runs fast but he can hardly hit anything.

I wish Momma would come. In school we had to make cards for mothers’ day and I made one for her. I want to give it to her today. I made it pink because that’s her favourite colour and I drew a picture of me and momma on the front. In my picture I drew me wearing the red sweater that grandma knitted and momma is wearing the blue dress and her face is smiling big. Inside it says _Happy Mother’s Day, love from Emmett Michael McCarty_ and I know all my writing is good and the spelling is right because I checked it and then made my teacher check it too. She said my card was beautiful and Momma would love it. But if she doesn’t come soon then I can’t give it to her and how can she love my card if she doesn’t even know I did it for her?

Alice made her mother’s day card for Esme, which made her have tears in her eyes. Then I showed her my card for Momma and that made her have tears too. I really don’t understand whether she wanted cards or not.

I don’t understand why Momma doesn’t come. I know sometimes she forgets and sometimes she’s sick but she didn’t come last time either so I haven’t seen her for a long time. Doesn’t she miss me?

But she’s definitely not coming today, because Esme has just come in and that means it’s time to go home. She’s talking to Mara and they’re both frowning. Mara looks really mad, but it can’t be my fault because I’ve just sat here in this old chair and waited the whole time.

“Come on Emmett,” Esme says. “Let’s go home sweetie.”

I say goodbye to Mara and trudge out to the car with Esme. She watches me put my seatbelt on and then gives me a kiss on the forehead. She smells nice, and her hair tickles my cheek.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to see your mother.”

I don’t say anything. Now that I know I won’t get to see Momma for at least a whole other week my throat has a big lump in it and my eyes are all scratchy. Why doesn’t she want to see me when I want to see her? Now I don’t know when I can give her my card that I made, because mother’s day was already a long time ago.

“I’ve been shopping,” Esme tells me, pointing at the big pile of bags on the front seat. “You’ve grown so much I had to get you all new things.”

I have grown. When I first came to stay with Esme and Carlisle I wore some of Edward’s clothes and they bought me some new ones, but now none of the pants are long enough to even cover up my socks and my pyjamas show my belly button. Maybe I’ve grown so much that Momma won’t even know it’s me when she sees me again.

Momma used to get our clothes at the shop behind the church, where the clothes used to belong to other people and sometimes they don’t have what you want so you have to get something else. Like when I wanted sneakers but none were the right size so I had to get a pair of black shoes that pinched my toes.

I don’t think Esme knows about the shop behind the church. She buys all the clothes and shoes from the big department store and they’re always new and we have to cut the tags off before we can wear them. Esme only lets me wear clothes for one day and then I have to put them in the laundry even if they’re my favourite, because that’s the rule.

Esme and Carlisle have lots of rules that Momma didn’t have. Like putting clothes in the laundry hamper and eating at the table with a knife and fork and going to bed at the right time and practising reading and saying please and thank you and putting toys away and don’t go off to play without telling someone and not watching shows with blood and guts and fighting. Sometimes it’s hard to remember them all.

The Cullens’ house is big and painted blue, and the garden is very tidy. They have a flag and a playhouse and a sandbox in the yard. My house with Momma was small and the paint was supposed to be white but was grey and peeling off. We didn’t have a flag or a playhouse or a sandbox, but we had some neat old cars to play in and lots of dirt to dig in as well as the river and big climbing trees. There aren’t any climbing trees here.

I miss Momma and I miss my climbing trees and the river.

When we go inside Edward and Alice are playing with all the dinosaurs and the farm animals. They don’t even say hi to me but Alice jumps up and runs to Esme to give her a hug. She shouts out “Mommy!” and then Esme gives her a big kiss.

This makes me really mad. It’s not fair. Alice doesn’t even care about our momma and maybe if she hadn’t been such a screaming baby and made momma mad she would have come and visited today. I’m so mad that my stomach hurts and I grab Alice by the arm and yank her away from Esme. I don’t even care that I’m pinching her skin when I shout out, “She’s not your fucking mommy!” and push her away. “We have our own momma if you weren’t so dumb and made her mad so now she won’t visit!”

Alice is crying really loudly and Esme picks her up and rubs her arm where I pinched her. Edward is just sitting there and I hate him too because he’s always perfect and never gets in trouble for anything. So I kick over some of his dinosaurs and one flies across the room and hits him in the head and then he starts crying too. Esme looks upset and so I run up the stairs, feeling mean and glad that I’ve made them all feel bad like I do.

In my room I hide in the closet. The closet is like a little tiny room and I like it in here. It’s quiet and safe and the door is made up of little slats of wood so I can still see out into the room and know if someone is coming. But this time I don’t look out, I scrunch right down in the corner and rub at my eyes because they’re all burning and scratchy and my throat has such a big lump in it that it’s hard to breathe.

I know I’ve been really bad this time. I pinched Alice and kicked Edward in the head with a dinosaur and said a swear word. I used to say those words all the time but Carlisle said they were called swearing and I shouldn’t do it.

I’m sitting next to a pair of rubber boots that don’t fit me anymore, and I put my hand down into one boot so see if my things are still there. They are. It’s one of my secret hiding places in that boot, and I put some of the things I don’t want them to know I have in there.

I feel all the things in the boot. I can’t see very well in the closet, but I know what all the things are. There’s a watch that is Esme’s, an old one with a crack in the glass that she wears when she’s doing the gardening. There is a bookmark that says _Disneyland_ on it and has a mouse head hanging from it on a little chain, that belongs to Carlisle. There is a wooden engine from the train set that has a smiley face and that says _Edward_ on the bottom. There are two hairclips that Esme bought for Alice, shaped like stars. Alice never used to wear hair clips.  

Alice’s hair is all different now- she used to have long, messy hair but when we came here it had bugs in it and she screamed all the time when Esme tried to comb it and her hair was so tangled even the comb broke. So she had a haircut and now her hair is short and shiny black like a cat and she wears it with hairclips. Alice likes to live here. She calls Esme mommy like Edward does and she doesn’t miss Momma and the climbing trees and she doesn’t like it when I tell her what to do anymore.

Everything is different now.

I take out the little Edward engine and drive it over the shoes. It’s not fair that there’s an engine named _Edward_ and not one named _Emmett._ I can hear footsteps coming up the stairs and then Carlisle and Esme come into the room. I can see them through the cracks in the door, but then they open the door and I have to squinch my eyes shut because the light is bright. I think they might drag me out of the closet, but instead they just sit down on the carpet right outside the door. Carlisle’s legs are long, but Esme folds hers up like we have to when we sit on the rug in first grade.

“Hi Emmett,” Carlisle says. “Your mom didn’t come today, huh?”

I shake my head but I don’t say anything.

“I guess that made you pretty mad.”

“I hurt Alice and kicked Edward’s toys and said a swear word,” I mutter. I look at Carlisle with a big frown to show him that I’m not scared, then show him the train in my hand and say, “I did all that _and_ I stole Edward’s train. So what are you going to do to me?”

They don’t look very mad actually. Esme looks kind of tired and a bit sad, and Carlisle looks normal. He’s even smiling when he says, “What do you think I should do to you?”

“Hit me?” I offer slowly. “Make me live somewhere else?” It’s not that I _want_ them to do that, but I know that’s what they’ll do eventually. They’re not my real family and sometimes I do a lot of bad things and I’m much dumber at school than Edward, who is really their son.

Carlisle isn’t smiling anymore. “You know we don’t hit anyone in this family, Emmett.”

“But if they’re really, really bad…”

“Even then,” he says and his voice sounds growly but not really in a mad way.

“Do you want to go and live somewhere else?” Esme says. “Are you not happy here?”

I shake my head. I don’t know how to answer that. I do like it here. I like that they have good food and that I go to school and this house is clean and it smells good and there’s no Mark cooking drugs in the kitchen and yelling and there aren’t scary people being too noisy when Alice and I are going to sleep. I like that Carlisle and Esme don’t yell and no one hits and they play games and give hugs and always say I love you. But I love my momma and I miss her even if she was sick and sometimes mean. It’s all mixed up and it’s like reading because I don’t know what the words are to explain to Esme and Carlisle.

“Can you tell us why you took Edward’s train?” Carlisle asks.

“Because I was mad,” I tell him. I want to sound tough but there’s still a big lump in my throat and my voice sounds all tiny and small. “It’s not fair that there’s an _Edward_ engine and not an _Emmett_ engine…he always has everything! And I don’t have anything, not even my momma anymore because she doesn’t even come to visit me…” And then the lump in my throat is nearly choking me and my eyes are burning so much that I can’t stop all the tears from coming out and I’m crying.

“Oh Em, sweetheart…” Esme kind of pulls me out of the closet and then holds me on her lap like I’m a big baby. Usually I don’t like it when someone does something that makes me a baby but she’s all soft and comfy and her hug is tight and it feels good. But I still can’t stop crying for a long time, even though Esme is hugging me and Carlisle pats my hair and they both look sad too.

 “Your momma loves you,” Carlisle tells me. “You know she does, and we all know that you love her too. But right now your momma really isn’t well, and that makes it hard for her to do the right thing for you.”

“Because of the meth,” I say. I know that it’s about that- weed and pills were okay but when Mark moved in with his meth that’s when Momma went kind of crazy.

Carlisle looks angry, but he’s still rubbing my hair so I don’t think he’s mad at me. “Yes. People taking meth forget how to take care of themselves, and so they can’t take care of their families either,” he tells me. He’s quiet for a little while and then he says, “How would you feel about having a new family Emmett?”

“What do you mean?” I’m scared. Go somewhere else? What kind of new family? And what about Alice?

“We’re not sure that your mother is going to get better and be able to have you and Alice go back to live with her,” Carlisle says. “And when that happens, the social workers and the lawyers think it’s good for kids to be adopted, so they can have a new family to belong to and a mom or dad or both to take care of them.”

“I would have to go somewhere else?”

“No. If you wanted to, we could adopt you and you could stay here with us. Then Esme would be your mom and I would be your dad and Edward would be your brother. We could have the same name if you wanted to, and we’d all belong together and be a family.” Carlisle smiles.

“What about Alice?”

“We would adopt Alice too,” Esme says. “She’ll always be your sister.” She’s still hugging me on her lap and I rest my head against her. I’m tired and this is confusing, but I think it means that they want me to stay here and I’m glad.

“Would I ever get to see my Momma?” I say.

“She’ll always be your mother,” Esme tells me and gives me a kiss. “She’s the one who gave birth to you and looked after you when you were little, and maybe one day she’ll be healthy again and you could see her. But for the time being, no, you won’t see her.”

I feel a tiny bit relieved to know that there won’t be the visitation anymore. I love my momma, but I don’t like visiting her in Mara’s office and I always get a stomachache before we go because I don’t know what’s going to happen.

“Don’t worry too much about adoption now,” Carlisle says in his kind voice. “Nothing’s going to happen for a long time. But we want you to know that Esme and I love having you and Alice in our family, and for as long as you like you can stay here with us.”

“Even though I stole Edward’s train?” I’m still holding the little engine, so I give it to Carlisle, who holds it and nods.

“We knew you took Edward’s train,” he tells me.

“Why didn’t you do anything?” I don’t understand. If they knew I did a bad thing, why didn’t they yell at me and make me give it back?

Esme is looking at me and smiling, and it makes me feel funny because it’s the same way she looks when she looks at Edward. “We knew we didn’t need to do anything,” she says. “We knew that you’d do the right thing and give it back when you were ready.”


	58. Extra - Esme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - It's been a couple of years since I wrote this story, but recently I've had a new reader for it. We've been talking about it a lot, and I remembered that I had some outtakes and fragments done from Esme's POV that never made it to an official extra chapter. Once I dug them all out there was more than I remembered, and although I do feel a bit weird about adding things at this point, I figured I may as well post them for anyone who would like to read them. So here are the Esme outtakes all together.

It’s my idea to have Rosalie come and live with us for her senior year.

Jack calls us the night she’s hurt, waking us in the early hours of the morning with an almost incoherent story about her assault. She’s in surgery and no one will give him a straight answer and he’s panicking. Carlisle calms him down and promises to find out what he can, but there’s nothing we can do from Forks except pray for her.

The details come out over several phone calls the next day, shocking in their stark brutality. I am heartsick over what has happened to the girl I’ve known her whole life, aching for what she must be going through. We send flowers, and Carlisle uses his medical connections in Rochester to make sure that Rosalie has excellent specialists attending to her care, but I can’t help but feel helpless.

Perhaps my own history gives me a keener sense of empathy for her. Perhaps it’s the memory of Lily, and how often she and I had talked about her worries and concerns as she fretted over leaving her twins when she knew she was dying. Perhaps it’s that I know Jack, and know the yawning chasm of misunderstanding that exists between him and his children, and will make no room for what the traumatised Rosalie needs. Perhaps it’s just that I watch my own children, flourishing even after the trauma of their early years, and see Rosalie as an extension of them. Whatever it is, I can’t stop thinking about her, and when the weeks go by and Jack reports with bewilderment that she is emotionally no better, the idea begins to take root in my mind.

Carlisle has been on the phone for close to an hour when he finally hangs up. As I unload the dishwasher he sits at the table with his head in his hands, and for a long time there is silence.

“No improvement with Rosalie then?”

“No.” Carlisle raises his head wearily. “Jack made an appointment with the therapist I recommended, but he said she refused point blank to go. She hasn’t left the house since her last check up, and she’s still adamant that she’s not going back to school. Jack said she lives in pyjamas, and you know Rosalie…” He tries to smile. “If she’s not trying to look pretty it’s got to be bad. But Jack’s nearly at the end of his rope – he has no idea what to do with her.”

“I’ve been thinking it over,” I say, wiping the counters. “She’s just in such a bad place, and I don’t think Jack…well, it occurred to me that what she needs is someone to take care of her. I think we should make the offer to have her come and live here for her senior year, and go to school with our three.”

“I don’t know about that…”

I’m a little surprised at Carlisle’s hesitation. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“It’s not that I think it’s a bad idea,” Carlisle says slowly. “Usually I’d say that staying in her familiar environment, with her family and friends around her, would be best. I wouldn’t want her to feel that she’s being hustled out of sight because what happened to her is shameful. But…”

“But her family is Jack,” I say flatly. Carlisle is well aware of how I feel about his friend’s relationship with his children. “You know he’s not capable of giving her what she needs, not after all this. She’ll be better off here.”

“Probably,” Carlisle admits with a sigh. “Jack loves her, but it’s pretty clear that any relationship he and Rosalie had before this has pretty much broken down. If Rosalie is agreeable, getting away from everything and starting fresh here might be the best thing she can do. From what Jack says though, I suspect she won’t go anywhere without Jasper. You know how close they’ve always been, and from what I understand she’s become pretty dependent on him.”

“Rosalie could have the spare room, and Jasper could have the upstairs study,” I murmur, wringing out the dishcloth. “Two aren’t that much more work than one.”

Carlisle laughs. “I think we’ve had this discussion before…I believe it ended with us adopting Emmett and Alice.”

I laugh too. “And look how well that turned out!”

“It did turn out well,” Carlisle grins. “But don’t you have any concerns about how having Rosalie here might affect that?”

“You mean Emmett?”

Carlisle nods, a little embarrassed. “Alice and Edward too, of course. Having two more teenagers in the house would be a big adjustment for everyone, even without Rosalie’s issues complicating that even further. But it’s Emmett’s senior year, and I just wonder if introducing a new…distraction into the house during his final year of school might not be a good idea.”

I know what Carlisle is saying, and although it’s a valid point I can’t help giggling. “You mean she’s his type.” Although Emmett no longer decorates his walls with posters of his favourite starlets, I know that Rosalie’s particular brand of blonde beauty would have fit right in.

Carlisle’s body is shaking with his quiet laughter. “It feels wrong to even say it! But yes. She is exactly what I believe appeals to our son, and I just wonder if…but it doesn’t really matter, does it? Of course we’ll take them both in, if they want to come.” He sighs. “Jack has no idea what to do with her. He never did, but now…I don’t know. I keep thinking about what Lily would want done for her, or what we would want for Alice, if it were her…I’ll call Jack tomorrow and broach the subject.”

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They’re the last ones through the gate. I’ve almost begun to think that they didn’t come after all when I finally see Jasper’s fair head above the crowd. He’s grown again.

Rosalie is beside him, and at first glance you would never know that anything happened to her. Her hair is hanging over half her half her face but although she looks strained and tired she doesn’t look hurt. As they come closer I see the cast on the arm she’s holding up defensively against her chest, but that’s really the only visible sign of her injuries despite how extensive they were.

Although to my eyes, the cast is not the only visible sign of what has happened. This tense girl with the trembling hands who stays in almost constant physical contact with her brother, whose eyes skip wildly around the crowded arrivals hall as if looking for danger, who flinches when I reach out to touch her…this girl is not the Rosalie Hale I know. She looks like her, but that shining, glowing confidence that has always characterised Rosalie is gone.

We wait for the luggage. Rosalie says nothing, although Jasper answers questions and tries to keep up the conversation. He speaks to Rosalie too, low voiced comments that she nods at. She doesn’t look at Carlisle and I.

I see the relief in her body when we unlock the car and she slides into the rear seat. She finally relaxes her broken arm away from her body and I realise for the first time just how much weight she’s lost since I last saw her. Her collarbones jut sharply out and the black tank top is disturbingly loose over what must be a concave stomach. She is thin enough to look unhealthy, and I think my first job might have to be just to get her to eat.

Rosalie is very quiet on the drive home. When we stop for lunch she barely touches her food, and when Carlisle obliquely refers to her assault by asking after her health she disappears to the bathroom and doesn’t return until we’ve nearly finished eating. Jasper apologises for her, and the strain he’s been under in trying to care for her shows clearly on his face. For the first time it occurs to me that Jasper might need us almost as much as Rosalie does.

As we drive I wonder again about how Rosalie will react to the boys. Alice is so small and friendly and happy that I’d had no doubts about the way she will be able to get along with our new houseguests. I’m hopeful that Jasper will settle in with her and the boys without any trouble – he’s pretty level headed and Emmett is easy going enough to get along with anyone. Edward is more reserved, but I can’t see any tension developing between him and Jasper either. But Rosalie is at such a vulnerable point…I wonder how she’ll cope with them.

I’m glad to get home and get out of the car and stretch my legs. Alice must have been watching for us because she bounds out of the house to give me a hug and offer Jasper and Rosalie a beaming smile of welcome. Carlisle opens the trunk and begins to haul out suitcases, shouting to the boys to come and help.

I wouldn’t have thought that Rosalie could become any more tense than she already was, to be honest, but she stiffens as Edward comes out of the house and over to say hello. He holds out his hand to shake hers, but she just stares at him with dumb, terrified eyes and he turns his outstretched hand into a wave.

I don’t think anyone else sees, but I’m watching the door when Emmett comes out. My big, beautiful boy…I see his face the first time he lays eyes on Rosalie Hale, and for a brief second I wish I’d never brought her here. Because on Emmett’s open, honest face I see a rush of feeling that can only mean one thing, but this is Rosalie and she is so far from being okay that all she’s going to do is break his heart.

Emmett goes to pick up her suitcases. I don’t even think she’s aware of it, but Rosalie backs away until she’s brought up short by the car against her back. It breaks my heart then, seeing her obvious fear, especially because she’s afraid of _Emmett._ My teddy bear boy…but she doesn’t know that. She just knows that there’s a big, strong male near her and she’s afraid.

“Do you think we’ve done the right thing?” I ask Carlisle quietly, as the children all head upstairs.

Carlisle wraps an arm around me. “I think so,” he says soberly. “You know I have trouble criticising Jack, but god knows that girl wasn’t getting what she needs from him, and it was too much to ask Jasper to take care of her. I look at him and he’s more tired and worried than a kid on summer vacation should be…I think he needs us nearly as much as Rosalie does right now.” He kisses me and sighs. “It won’t be easy though. She’s traumatised, and this is a big change for her. We’ll have to take it slow.”

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I’d prepared the roast and the vegetables before Carlisle and I had left for Seattle and given Edward, generally the most reliable of the children, strict instructions about when to turn on the oven. He’s done as asked, and so the meal is beautifully cooked when dinnertime rolls around.

It’s odd to sit at the table with the two Hales there too. I hadn’t thought I would find it strange, since we often have friends of the children to dinner, but I think just knowing that they are permanent guests make it different.

Jasper eats like Emmett, with serious intent, big mouthfuls disappearing rapidly. He compliments me several times, seeming almost surprised that I cooked this at home myself. I know that he and Rosalie usually fend for themselves in regards to meals, and I suppose that neither of them have ever had much of a chance to learn to cook.

Rosalie sits adjacent to me. She’s silent and keeps her eyes on her plate, picking at the food and nibbling at a slice of bread. In the bright dining room light I can see the unhealthy pallor of her skin, and the slightly rough, irritated texture of the skin around the edges of her cast. I think she’s not even aware of how often she scratches at it. As I watch her move her food around her plate and not even touch the meat, it occurs to me that although I know she has no allergies, I haven’t even asked her about her food preferences.

“You’re not eating much Rosalie,” I say quietly, not intending to embarrass her. “Don’t you like it? You’re not vegetarian are you? Is there something else you would prefer?” The rule has always been that the children eat what I cook, that my kitchen is not a restaurant, but I’m more than willing to make an exception for our new houseguest at this point.

Rosalie jumps at the sound of her name. “No, it’s fine, I eat meat. It’s just that I…can’t.” She lifts her cast a little helplessly, and I realise afresh that it covers most of her fingers and there’s no way she can manipulate a knife and fork.

“Sorry, I didn’t think of it,” Jasper mumbles, and reaches for her plate, cutting her meat into bite size pieces before he passes it back to her.

Rosalie’s face is white, apart from the two spots of colour burning in her cheeks as she takes her plate back.

“When do you get the cast off? How long have you had it?” Alice asks, trying to break the tension. “It must be such a pain!”

“I should get it off on Friday. It’s been on for nearly eight weeks, so it should be healed,” Rosalie mutters.

“Are you both settled in?” Carlisle asks genially.

“Please let us know if you need anything, or if we can help you with anything. It’s important to us that you feel at home here,” I add, thinking of Lily and what she would have wanted us to do for her scarred and hurting babies.

“Thank you, we’re fine,” Jasper says softly. “It’s good of you to do…all this.” His eyes flick towards his sister, and then meet mine and I try to smile reassuringly.

I let the children off helping to clear the table and stack the dishwasher. I’m hoping that they’ll make some overtures of friendliness to our guests and help them feel at home, and indeed as I scrape plates and fill the dishwasher I can hear the sound of boyish laughter and electronic music as they turn on the playstation in the living room.

I’m nearly finished when Alice wanders into the kitchen and helps herself to some iced water.

“Where’s Rosalie?” I ask.

“Having a shower,” Alice responds, adding a little hesitantly, “She’s not the friendliest person, Mom.”

“Not right now, no,” I agree, wrapping my girl in a hug.

“What really happened to her?” Alice asks. “I know you and dad said she was assaulted, but…”

I shake my head at her. “If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you. That story belongs to Rosalie, and it’s not for me to share if she wants it kept private.”

Alice sighs. “I thought you’d say that. But I thought if maybe I knew it might be easier to get to know her.”

“You know enough. She was assaulted and had a lot of injuries. The physical ones are healing, but the emotional damage caused by that kind of experience can last a while…so you’ll have to understand if Rosalie is a bit reserved and stand-offish at first. It’s like when you first came here- we had to do a lot to gain your trust.”

Alice frowns. She hates being reminded of her life before she came to us.

“Rosalie hasn’t had the easiest life,” I tell her, thinking that I’m not betraying any confidences here. “It should have been different, but her mother Lily got cancer and spent years enduring sickness and treatment. Rosalie saw all that, and then her mother died. Her father isn’t the most hands-on of parents…Rosalie and Jasper have had to basically raise themselves for the last few years. I think it will be good that they’re here.”

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I wake with the screaming. I almost don’t know what is it, the high pitched sounds of sheer terror that come echoing down the staircase, and I grab Carlisle’s arm in fright.

“Carlisle! Something’s happening!”

He wakes too, immediately groping on his nightstand until he turns on the lamp. “What IS that?”

Alice comes flying into the bedroom. “Daddy, it’s Rosalie,” she gasps. “She’s screaming and screaming and now she can’t breathe.” Her little, pointed face looks frightened.

“It’s okay pumpkin,” Carlisle says calmly. “I’m coming.” Despite the measured tone of his words he’s out of bed and pulling on a pair of pyjama pants and grabbing his robe. I do the same, and the two of us hurry up the stairs, hearing the hoarse, choking sobs even before we reach her room.

I push past Emmett and Edward, crowded in the doorway and staring, and move swiftly to the side of the bed. The quilt is on the floor and Rosalie is slumped over the bed, her pyjamas plastered against her body with sweat, her whole body shaking with the effort as she gasps in a series of gulping, wheezing pants. Her eyes are closed and her mouth slack.

“She’s passed out,” Jasper says tersely. “She was hyperventilating…this was a bad one.”

I sit on the edge of the bed, and stroke Rosalie’s hair away from where it’s sticking to her forehead. My other hand touches Jasper gently on the shoulder.

“She’s lucky she has you to take care of her.”

Carlisle has her wrist in one hand, and is watching his wristwatch and counting. “Her heart rate is slowing. That’s it Rosalie, just breathe…you’re doing fine.”

I keep stroking her hair. All my mothering instincts want me to wrap this poor, hurting girl up in my arms and just hold her, but I know she won’t thank me for it.

“Good girl Rosalie, you’re going to be fine. It’s just a panic attack. I know it’s scary, but you’re not in any danger. Just breathe, and try and relax…” Carlisle’s voice is soft and soothing, and I can see Rosalie’s chest moving a little less as her breathing slows. “Jasper, do you know if she has any meds for this?”

“No, she doesn’t.” Jasper sees his sister moving her hand and reaches forward and grips it in his. “She hasn’t been this bad in a while,” he adds, and I hear the tiny catch in his voice.

Rosalie doesn’t open her eyes, and her voice is barely more than a whisper, but we hear her anyway. “Go away. Leave me alone.”

The tears are trickling down her cheeks, leaking out from under her eyelashes, and I take a tissue and wipe her face almost tenderly.

“Back to bed you three,” Carlisle says quietly to our children, still clustered in the doorway. “Rosalie’s fine- it was just a nightmare.”

It’s not until they’re gone that Rosalie sits up. She’s still breathing rapidly but it’s easier now, although she begins shivering as the cool night air touches her sweaty skin.

“Are you feeling better now?” Carlisle asks.

I bend down and pick up the quilt, draping it over her as she shivers. “Don’t get cold,” I say gently.

“I’m okay. I’m sorry.” Rosalie blinks fast to hold back her tears. For a moment she looks at Jasper and leans into him with a tiny whimper, and he wraps his arms around her and hugs her, briefly and tightly.

“Don’t worry about it sweetheart,” I say consolingly. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.” I’m not in the least bit concerned about being woken in the middle of the night, not in the face of Rosalie’s obvious and uncontrollable night terror.

“I’m fine now. It was just a nightmare, that’s all, and then I woke up and panicked.” Rosalie brushes her hair back with a shaking hand, but her voice sounds surprisingly composed.

Carlisle takes her wrist again and counts the pulse beats. “That’s good, your heart rate is down.”

“I’m really fine,” Rosalie insists. “Please…I just want to go back to sleep.”

“If you’re sure,” I say doubtfully, but Rosalie nods firmly.

“I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time,” Rosalie says. “I’ll live.”

She’s starting to sound angry, and so Carlisle and I say goodnight and head back downstairs. We get back into bed and he curls around my back, lifting my hair out of the way to kiss the nape of my neck. For a long time neither of us speak, but we both know the other is awake.

“Did you know she had nightmares?” I ask.

“Mmhm.” I can feel Carlisle nod. “Jack told me she either slept twenty hours a day and woke up screaming, or didn’t sleep at all.”

“Poor little girl,” I murmur. Rosalie is seventeen, nearly an adult, and yet there is something about the desperate fear in her eyes and the way she seems so lost that makes her seem like a child.

“She needs therapy,” Carlisle says quietly. “I’m going to talk to Jack about forcing the issue, because while I think she’ll benefit from being here and getting back to school and back into a normal life, I really don’t think it will be enough.” He pauses, and when he speaks again he sounds weary. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt as much like a monster as I did today when I had to examine her. It’s not that she was embarrassed, she was absolutely sick about it. Checking the incision sites and the scars was bad enough with Rosalie shaking under my hands, but I didn’t know if she was going to pass out or throw up when I had to do the pelvic. She’s healed well, but the girl’s in a bad place and I don’t think it’s somewhere she’s going to be able to get out of without help.”

“We’ll find someone for her to talk to,” I say comfortingly, rolling over and embracing him.

Carlisle leans his forehead against mine. “I want to do right by her,” he says in a low voice. “She’s Jack’s daughter, and Lily’s too…and she deserves better than what she’s been given.”

“Emmett said they had a good time while he was driving her home,” I say.

Carlisle groans and then laughs. “Off roading through the forest, after I’d told her to be careful with her head!” He sighs. “Although of course I’m glad that she and Emmett are getting along.”

I think about the look I’ve seen on Emmett’s face, and the way his eyes follow Rosalie when she’s not aware of his presence, but I say nothing. It’s hard to imagine that Rosalie, waking screaming in the night like a toddler, is capable of opening her heart to anyone. Not even Emmett.

I think about when I bought him home, the dirty, scrawny little boy who knew both far too much and nowhere near enough about the world. I remember the stealing and the lying and the fighting. But at the same time Emmett was always special- he not only survived his neglected and abusive early childhood but somehow managed to develop an extraordinarily beautiful spirit. When Emmett gives his heart he loves with an innocent faith and a boundless belief in the goodness of others, but this leaves him so vulnerable to hurt. I remember when we bought him home and each week I’d take him to the Child Services office for visitation with his mother, and every week Emmett would be bouncing around in the back seat, wild with anticipation about seeing his beloved momma. And then so many weeks, when I’d go to pick him up and he’d been disappointed, I would see the hurt and bewilderment in his eyes and my heart would break for him.

I think about Rosalie, and about the way Emmett seems to feel about her, and I cross my fingers and say a brief prayer that he won’t be hurt. That he won’t give his heart to the broken girl upstairs until she’s healed and can love him the way he deserves.


	59. Extra - Little Emmett 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Another collection of backstory I wrote for Where the Wild Roses Grow Emmett. A bit about the day he first came to the Cullens, a story about his first day of school, and some of his thoughts about his new school and life. Again, I feel like updating it now is a bit weird, but hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway!

“What are you doing here? You know we can’t help you unless your mother is here too Emmett, we’ve told you before.”

I’m in the doorway of the food parcel place and scowling because it’s the lady I don’t like. She’s old and wrinkled like a walnut and always sounds so cross, and I can’t ask her about Alice. I need the other lady, the one with the brown hair, who is always nice. Her name is Esme and she laughs when we talk to her, and once she gave Alice a new dress. Last time when I came without Momma because Alice and I were so hungry she made us sandwiches even though she’s not supposed to. She’s the only grown up I could think of that might be able to help me.

The other woman is yelling at me though, because it’s been raining outside and my bare feet are muddy on the wooden floor. She’s telling me to get out, but I can’t go until I find out if Esme is here. She won’t let me get a word in edgewise though, and just when I think I’ll have to give up and go home Esme comes out of the back room.

“Emmett honey, hi!” She gives me a big smile, but I guess me being here by myself is weird because she looks a bit worried. “Where’s Alice?”

I don’t want to tell the cranky old woman about Momma and what’s at home, but I need Esme to come. “Alice is sick,” I tell her.

“Well you should go and get a doctor then,” the old woman says.

I don’t say anything, but I look at Esme and hope that maybe she will guess right that I need her. And she does, because she turns to the old woman and says, “I’m finished out the back now Claire, so I’ll be heading off. I’ll see you next week. Come on Emmett, how about you come outside with me and tell me what’s happening.”

It’s cold outside and I chew on the sleeve of my sweater. Grandma knitted it for Momma but it’s red and has a pattern of twisty ropes on it and I like to wear it because it’s warm and reminds me of Grandma. I wish she wasn’t dead and she was here now. She would help me fix Alice up.

“Now Emmett, what’s wrong with Alice? Is she at home by herself? And what about your mother?” Esme is asking lots of questions.

“Alice is real sick,” I tell her. “She’s on the couch at home and she won’t wake up…I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t know any other grown ups to ask.” I have to swallow hard so that I don’t cry. I’m really scared.

Esme’s face looks all serious. “She won’t wake up?”

“Please come,” I say, and my voice is little.

“Okay sweetie, let’s go.”

Esme follows me and I walk as quick as I can back home, along the church street and down the alley and past the school and the cemetery and then up onto the railway line and along that. Esme is wearing shiny tall shoes but she walks as fast as she can and doesn’t say anything when her shoes get muddy and she slips climbing down the railway track hill when we get home and gets mud on her pants.

At home I run up the steps and inside to where I left Alice. She’s still sleeping on the couch, covered up by the blanket that I put on her, but there’s a new yucky smell and I can see that she’s done a sick on the pillow. There’s even some in her hair.

“She’s done sick,” I say to Esme, and my voice sounds funny when I grab Alice’s shoulder and shake her. “Ali, wake up!”

But she doesn’t wake up. Her skin feels cold and sticky and her face is all white and her lips are blue like she’s wearing a lipstick. I look at Esme. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Esme is looking at Alice and she’s not smiling her nice smile anymore. “You did the right thing coming and finding some help Emmett,” she tells me. “Alice is very sick, and she needs a doctor right away. I’m going to call the ambulance and they’ll come and take her to the hospital. My husband is a doctor there, and he’ll take care of her.” She pulls a phone out of her pocket and starts talking.

“Momma won’t like it,” I say. Now I’m scared about Ali not waking up and about what’s going to happen to me when Momma and Mark find out what I’ve done. “She don’t like doctors.”

“She would want Alice to get better,” Esme says to me, and then she talks more into the phone. I hear her talking about the hospital and then I hear her say the word ‘police’ and I think my heart is going to jump right out of my chest cause I’m so scared.

“No!” I say to her, with my sleeve in my mouth. “No police! We don’t need them…just a doctor for Alice, that will be okay if there’s no police.”

I don’t think Esme understands. Momma might smack me for going into town and getting Esme and a doctor and that’s bad enough, but if the police come Mark is going to lay into me and he doesn’t just use his hand like Momma does. “Please no police!”

“Where’s your mother Emmett?” Esme asks.

I chew on my sleeve. I don’t want her to go and see Momma, but… “She’s in her room,” I say at last. “But she’s not real good today, and she can’t help.”

Esme goes over to Momma’s bedroom, but I wish she wouldn’t. Momma and Mark were smoking with the glass pipe last night and that means they won’t be good for anything this morning. I was so scared of Alice not waking up this morning that I even tried to make Momma wake up but she just told me to fuck off and went back to sleep which is what she always does after she and Mark have a party. Esme must realise that though, because she comes straight back to me and Alice.

“Do you know why Alice is sick?” Esme asks me. “Was she sick yesterday?”

I shake my head, and then point to the bowl with some cereal left in it that’s fallen off the arm of the couch onto the floor. “I think she ate something she shouldn’t have,” I mutter. “I always tell her to only use the Sesame Street bowl and the cups with the handles because I know they’re okay, but she thinks she’s big enough to get her own things from the kitchen.”

Esme is frowning and I feel bad. I’m kind of mad at Alice for not listening to me and eating something bad and making herself sick, but I don’t want Esme to think she’s naughty.

“Alice is still little,” I say. “She doesn’t know how to be careful like I do yet. It’s safe if we only use the Sesame street bowls and the cups with handles or eat food that I can open the packet myself. And when Mark’s not here it doesn’t matter.”

Mark cooks drugs in the kitchen. When he first came to live here Momma told me that the stuff could make me sick and I should keep away. Mark yells and hits if we go in there when he’s cooking, and he never cleans up. I’m always careful about what I touch in the kitchen.

“That’s okay Emmett,” Esme says.

I don’t know if it’s going to be okay or not. Alice is making a funny noise now and the doctor and the police are going to come and Momma is going to be so mad at me. I chew on the sleeve of my jumper again and feel sick.

Alice is only wearing undies, and she can’t go out like that. I run into our room and find her dress, the one with the spots on it that Esme gave her one day at the food pantry that’s her favourite, and then I try and put it on. It’s hard because she’s asleep and I nearly make her fall off the couch but I feel better when it’s done.

“It’s okay Emmett,” Esme says again. She says that a lot, but I don’t know if she can really mean it. “The ambulance will have some warm blankets for Alice and the hospital will have a special nightie for her to wear, so don’t worry about her clothes.”

I shake my head. I think this is all wrong now, because Esme wants them to take Alice away and then I’ll be left here by myself. “They can’t take her away,” I say to her, and my voice sounds all squeaky and scared. “Momma will be so mad!”

“She needs a doctor Emmett,” Esme says, and she holds my hand. “Alice is very sick, and she needs the doctors at the hospital to work out what’s wrong and help her feel better.”

“Ali don’t want to go nowhere by herself,” I say. I know this is true. Alice likes me best and she doesn’t like it when she doesn’t know where I am. If I want to go and play down at the river she always comes and even though she’s scared of the big climbing trees she always brings her doll and plays on the ground while I climb. She won’t want to be anywhere without me. She doesn’t know how to look after herself.

But when the ambulance comes, the ambulance woman just looks at Alice while Esme tells her that she might have swallowed something and then picks her right up in her arms. “She doesn’t look good,” she says, “We’d better hurry.”

“No!” I yell, scared that Momma’s going to come out and that Alice is going to get taken away and die and it will all be my fault. “You can’t take her.” I run over and try to make the ambulance woman give me Alice, but she just turns her back on me and keeps carrying my sister outside.

“Emmett honey, listen to me,” Esme holds my hand and crouches down so she’s the same height at me. I can hardly see her face because my eyes are all blurry with tears. “Alice is very sick and she needs to see a doctor right away. You’ve been a very smart, brave boy this morning to go out and get help for her, and you need to keep on being brave for a little while longer. You and I will go to the hospital with Alice now, okay? You won’t be left alone, and neither will Alice.”

She keeps holding my hand and pulls me out to where they’re putting Alice in the ambulance. She’s strapped down on a bed and the woman puts a mask over her face. I don’t like it. It makes Alice look even smaller and sicker.

Esme sits in the front with the driver and the woman who carried Alice out makes me sit on a little seat in the back and put on a seat belt. I’ve never been in an ambulance before and it should be exciting, driving speeding fast with the siren going, but I’m too scared of what’s going to happen next to even pay attention. There are too many strange things in the ambulance and Alice is making funny noises again behind the mask. The ambulance woman listens to Alice’s heart and is telling the driver lots of numbers, but I don’t know what they mean, and I can’t even understand the words she’s using.

At the hospital they speed Alice away and hide her behind a curtain. There’s some shouting and other people go running in behind the curtain too. I want to go there with her, but when I try to sneak in Esme holds my hand and makes me come with her.

The chairs are hard and not comfortable. There are some toys on a shelf at the side but I don’t go and look at them. I just sit down on the hard plastic chair and tuck myself all small inside my sweater. Only my head is sticking out the top and my feet out the bottom. I couldn’t find my shoes this morning so my feet are bare and brown with dirt. I wonder if the police came to our house, and I wonder how hard Mark’s going to hit me if they did come. I wish Momma would come here to the hospital.

Esme and I wait for a long time. Sometimes people go in and out from behind the curtain where they took Alice, but I don’t see my sister.

There are lots of other people waiting too. I thought there might be lots of blood and guts but there’s not. Mostly people just sit and wait quietly, like me and Esme, until someone comes to the window and calls out a name. It’s really boring.

After a long time Esme puts her arm around my shoulder. I don’t do anything at first but I’m so tired and scared that after a little while I lean over, still all scrunched up inside my sweater, and rest my head on her. She smells like flowers.

I don’t know how long we sit and wait before the doctor comes out. I know he’s the doctor because he’s wearing blue doctor pyjamas like on tv and has a stethoscope around his neck. He’s very tall, and when he comes over to us Esme stands up and they kiss and then talk in whispers.

“Hi, you must be Emmett.” The doctor kneels down in front of me. He smiles and his eyes go all crinkly. He looks like a nice person and I want to smile back, but Momma says doctors are no good and just want to boss you around and take kids away and so I don’t.

“This is my husband Dr Carlisle,” Esme tells me. “He’s been taking care of Alice.”

I don’t want anyone to think Alice was naughty on purpose. She’s just little and kind of dumb…she doesn’t need to have anyone yell at her or tell her off. “She didn’t mean it,” I say to Dr Carlisle. “I just think she ate something bad by mistake.”

“I think you’re right.” He doesn’t seem mad, just a little bit worried. “We’re trying to work out what it was so we can help her feel better. What about you sport, are you hungry?”

I’m almost always hungry.

Dr Carlisle laughs. “Okay, how about you go to the cafeteria with Esme and she can get you something to eat? I’ll come and find you later, and hopefully we’ll know more about Alice then.” He says something else quietly to Esme and then he walks away quickly.

Esme takes me to the cafeteria, which is like a restaurant, and tells me I can have anything I want. There is almost too many choices and some of the things I don’t know what they are, but they have fries and chicken nuggets and I pick them. Esme has only a drink of tea, and she’s only drunk a few little sips by the time I’ve finished eating all my fries and chicken. She says I can have a dessert, and while she’s buying me a little cup of pudding I sneak two chocolate bars from the pile into my pocket. I meant to save some of the chicken nuggets for Alice but I was too hungry, so I’ll get her chocolate instead. She likes chocolate better than chicken anyway. I know she’ll be hungry when she wakes up and I don’t know if they will bring her to this cafeteria. Momma will be so mad about us letting Esme in our house and going to the hospital and talking to doctors that she won’t take us to McDonald’s on the way home, that’s for sure.

Esme tells me to stay put and eat the dessert and she’s just going to talk to Carlisle for a minute. I don’t mind, because my pudding is chocolate and it’s delicious. I eat it all with the spoon and then I lick the little cup clean. I’m trying to get my tongue right down into the bottom corner and it’s hard, so I don’t even notice until it’s too late that Esme is coming back to sit with me and she’s got her doctor husband and a policeman with her.

As soon as I see the policeman I feel sick. Esme must have seen me steal the candy and now she’s going to make the policeman take me to jail and I’ll be in big trouble. I want to run away, but Esme is sitting on one side of me and the doctor sits on the other side of me and there isn’t any way I can escape.

“Hey,” The doctor puts his hand on my arm. I think he’s going to hurt me and I scrunch down in my seat, but his hand is soft and he just pats my shoulder. “You don’t need to go anywhere Emmett.” His eyes are blue and they have little crinkles at the side when he smiles at me.

I take the chocolates out of my pockets and put them on the table. They’re only a little bit squashed, and I shove them at the policeman. “I took them for Alice,” I say. “Cause she didn’t get fries and nuggets like me and she’ll be hungry.” I wait for them to yell at me, but no one does.

“It’s okay Emmett,” the policeman says. He takes his hat off and I see that he has a shiny bald head as well as a furry moustache like the dog that lives next to the church. “I’m not here because of that…but you know you shouldn’t steal, right?”

I nod my head but I don’t say anything. The kids on tv get in trouble for stealing, but I bet their mommas don’t sometimes forget to buy food.

“My name’s Jim,” the policeman says. “I’m here to talk about your mom.”

I scowl. “Momma does what she has to do,” I say to him, remembering what she always says when someone is nosy or mean.

Jim nods. “Yeah, but she hasn’t been doing a real good job of looking after you and your sister lately…”

“She can’t help it!” I don’t want anyone saying anything bad about my momma, and I’m mad that he’s even going to try. He doesn’t know anything about my momma. “She’s sick!” I say, and my voice is loud even in the noisy cafeteria. “And I take care of Alice just fine.”

At least I did until today…but now my sister is sick in the hospital and won’t wake up and I can feel my eyes getting all scratchy like I want to cry.

Esme puts her arm around me and gives me a hug, and for just a moment I let her because it feels nice, like Momma used to be before my Grandma died and Mark came to live at our house.

“I know you do sweetie,” Esme says, her voice all soft. “You’ve taken good care of Alice, and I’m sure your mommy will be so glad that you were smart enough to get help for her today. And you’re right that your mommy isn’t very well at the moment. What Jim and Carlisle and I think is that while your mommy is sick and can’t look after you, you should come and stay at my house for a little while.”

I frown really hard, so no one will know how scared I am. “What about Alice? I want to go and see her.”

“She needs to stay in the hospital for a little while to make sure she’s getting better properly,” Dr Carlisle tells me. “Now, what we need to do is have you come with me so I can give you a quick check up and…”

“No!” I say, folding my arms and giving him a mean stare. “I’m not sick and I don’t like no doctors looking at me.”

Momma doesn’t like doctors. She thinks they’re nosy and bossy and we don’t go and see them.

Esme still has her arm holding me. “I’ll come with you,” she says. “I’ll be with you when Carlisle takes a quick look, and then maybe we can go and see Alice before we go home to my house. Carlisle and I have a little boy you know, and I bet you’d like to see some of his toys. He has a train set and some cars, and I think he’d love having someone to play with them with him.”

Esme is always nice. She made me let them take Alice to this hospital, but she bought me the chicken nuggets and fries and a pudding and didn’t even yell about the chocolates. I like trains. And if they will let me see Alice… “Okay,” I say.

Dr Carlisle takes me to a room that has pictures of cartoons on the walls and a bed with a white sheet on it and some little airplanes hanging on strings from the roof. I tell him my whole name, Emmett Michael McCarty, and he does some typing in a computer. He tells Esme that I’m seven years old and that Alice is four and she has a different name. I know this. Alice’s whole name is Mary Alice Brandon the same as my grandma’s name. She has a different dad to me but I don’t know who he is.

Carlisle looks in my mouth and eyes and ears, and then he listens to my heart with a stethoscope. He lets me listen too, and I laugh because my heart sounds like a slow drum. He sticks something in my ear to see my temperature and he weighs me on a scale, and then he wants me to take my sweater and my Spiderman t-shirt and my shorts off.

I don’t want to do it. I don’t like having no clothes on, but I know that they’re grown-ups and they’ll make me do whatever they want so I drop them on to the floor and stand there.

“Who did this?” Carlisle’s voice sounds mad when I turn around, and I back away quickly. I don’t want to be anywhere near him if he’s angry.

Esme goes to touch my back and I duck. She makes a funny noise and then I look at her and she gives me a funny, wobbly smile. “You’ve got some…some bruises on your back. Did someone hurt you?”

I try and turn around and look over my shoulder. _Oh, that._ Momma doesn’t mean to, but sometimes she hits too hard and it leaves a mark. Mark does mean to hit hard and last time he used a stick and it hurt like a sonofabitch, so I’m not surprised to see that my butt and legs still have the stripes on them. “It’s not so bad,” I say. “They don’t hurt.”

Dr Carlisle takes a picture, which I don’t like and then I’m allowed to get dressed again. “You promised I could see Alice,” I say to them, and Esme holds my hand and smiles at me. Dr Carlisle lets me have some jellybeans from his jar, and when he’s not looking Esme sneaks some too and that makes me laugh.

After all that I’m finally allowed to see Alice again. She’s upstairs in a room with some other kids, and at first I’m scared because she’s still asleep and has some tubes and cords on her arm and her finger. But Dr Carlisle tells me that now she’s just sleeping because she’s tired, not being asleep because she’s sick like this morning. I want to wake her up but Dr Carlisle says she needs to rest to get better so I don’t.

I think I’ll just climb in the bed with Alice and wait for her to get better and my momma to come and get us, but I forgot that I have to go to Esme’s house with her. I know she has a boy to play with and some good toys and she says she’ll give me a snack, but I still don’t want to go. I want to stay with Alice. Momma is already going to be so mad about the hospital, and if I’m not even here when she comes it will be worse. But Esme and Dr Carlisle both say that momma isn’t going to come for us today so for at least one night I have to go to their house and Alice has to stay in the hospital so they can watch her. I don’t like this, but I’m just a kid and they’re the grown ups and so I just have to do what they say.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

 

I don’t want to go. I sit on the bottom of the steps and wriggle my toes in my red sneakers that are so new that they’re still stiff. I haven’t even worn them outside yet because I didn’t want to make them dirty. But today’s the first day of school and Esme says we have to wear good clothes and make a good impression.

I don’t know about making a good impression. I like my new red sneakers and all the shorts and the t-shirts with the collars that I think are fancy and Esme says are called polos, but I don’t want to wear them to school. I don’t want to go to school and have to wear good clothes to make a good impression on my new teacher.

Dr Carlisle comes and sits down on the step beside me. “You look serious there, Emmett. Is something about school worrying you?”

I scuff my new red sneakers in the carpet. “I don’t think I want to be in the first grade. I think I should stay here. What if my momma wants to find me? She won’t know where to look for me at school.”

Dr Carlisle tips his head to the side and nods. I just wait. Sometimes I think he isn’t going to say anything but he’s really just thinking, and then he says what he’s been thinking about.

“I think you need to go to school,” he says finally. “I know that it might seem a little bit scary, but you’ve done so many brave things Emmett, I know you can do this one too.”

“Maybe Alice should be in first grade too,” I say. “She might like school better if she’s with me.”

Carlisle smiles. “Alice isn’t as old as you Emmett, so you need to be in different grades. She’ll find some new girls and boys to play with in the kindergarten, and I bet you’ll find some new friends in first grade.”

I wouldn’t mind having some new boys to play with. Here at the Cullens’ house there is Edward, but he likes playing with Alice better than me, and if I even bump him by accident he cries and tattles. Sometimes at the park the other kids play baseball with me and Carlisle, and one time I played a game of chase with some big boys and it was really fun. There is a good playground at the school. One day we went to the school so Dr Carlisle and Esme could talk to the principal and we got to play in it.

“But they’ll make me do hard things,” I say quietly. “At school they do reading and writing and math and I don’t know how.”

I kick my feet harder into the carpet. My momma didn’t read books and she didn’t care if me and Alice knew all the alphabet or not. I knew the letters in a song I learned off Sesame Street but I couldn’t read or write them. There wasn’t even many books at our old house, and there wasn’t any clean paper for drawing. Alice and I liked to draw in books and on the back of mail.

Here at the Cullens’ house they all like to read books. Even Edward, who doesn’t even go to school yet, can read books! There are a million books in shelves all over the house and I can look at any of them that I want. Esme reads all different books to us all the time. Dr Carlisle reads to us from a long book every night before we go to bed. It’s about a chocolate factory and it’s my favourite story ever and makes me not even mind when it’s time for bed because I get to hear some more.

Esme has been trying to teach me and Alice all the letters and how to write things. They have a shelf here that has a big pile of brand new clean paper and then some cups with pencils and crayons and markers, and we can use them whenever we want to do drawing and writing. I like to draw, but I don’t like it when Esme tries to teach me the letters because it’s hard and I feel dumb because Edward can already do it and he’s only five and not seven like me.

I can write my name now though. Only my first name, EMMETT, but Esme says it’s a start and I’ll learn lots more in first grade.

I want to learn lots more and be able to read like Edward and write so I could maybe write a letter to my momma but I don’t want to go to first grade.

“Your teacher will help you,” Dr Carlisle says softly. “She knows that you didn’t go to kindergarten like the other kids did so you might need some extra help, and that’s okay. Esme and I will help you at home too, and we’ll have to help Alice and Edward too. You’re a smart boy Emmett, we all know that, and I bet you’ll surprise yourself with all the new things you learn and can do after you’ve been to school for a little while.”

“But Momma won’t know I’m at school,” I counter. “If she wants to find me, I won’t be here.”

Although I sometimes don’t know if my Momma really _does_ want to find me. After Alice went to the hospital and the police and Mara made us come and live with the Cullens I didn’t get to see my momma for ages. Even when we finally had a visit with her it was at Mara’s office and she hasn’t ever come here to the Cullens’ house to see where I live now.

“Your Momma isn’t allowed to come to your school,” Dr Carlisle says. “Remember we talked about this? If she does come by school, you need to tell the teacher.”

He doesn’t sound mean, but he has the kind of voice that you know is telling the truth and you can’t argue with. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it, and I scowl and kick my feet.

“That’s for now, anyway,” he adds. “Maybe later she’ll be better and she could come to the open day? But if you like I can help you write her a letter telling all about your first day at school? I’m sure she’d like to get a letter like that. And Esme wants to take a picture of you and Alice and Edward all ready for the first day of school, so we could print the picture out and send that to your mom too.”

I think that’s a good idea, so when Dr Carlisle pulls on my hand I get up and go outside with him.

Esme is out there and she wants me to stand with Alice and Edward on the steps for a photo. I stand next to Alice who is so excited about kindergarten she can hardly even stand still. She wears the same blue shorts like me and Edward, but her polo shirt is pink and her backpack has fairies on it. My shirt is blue and my backpack has Spiderman, and Edward has a yellow shirt and his backpack has dinosaurs. My stomach feels too funny for smiling, but I try for Esme and then we all climb in the car and drive to the school.

There are so many people at the school. Everywhere there are kids in polos and with new backpacks and shiny new sneakers, and there are all kinds of moms and dads. I wish my momma was here to see me be a big kid in first grade. I pretend that Esme and Carlisle are my real mom and dad though. I don’t want any of these other kids to know that the policeman made me go and live away from my momma because of drugs.

Alice sees all the kids and hears all the noise and then she straight away starts crying. She grabs hold of me and tries to climb up me like a monkey and nearly knocks me over. I hold her tight, and it makes me feel better too because she still likes me best.

Esme tries to make Alice let go of me but Alice isn’t having any of it. She just cries even harder and holds me so tight that she’s just about strangling me. She doesn’t stop until Esme promises that I can take her in to the kindergarten room, and then Alice just hangs on to my arm and cries into my shoulder as we walk over there.

Miss Kelly is the kindergarten teacher, and when she sees that Alice is crying she comes right over to us. She is taller than even Carlisle and has dark skin and plaits in her hair that have beads that make clicky noises when she crouches down next to us. “Good morning, Cullen family!” she says with a big white smile.

Edward says hi but Alice won’t even look at her. She is crying into my polo shirt and even though I am nice and just pet her and don’t say anything I hope she’s not leaving gross snot on it so that the other kids will think it’s me that’s been crying.

Miss Kelly talks to Carlisle and Esme for a minute, and then says, “Let’s sort you out, Edward and Alice. Let’s go and find you a place to keep your backpacks.”

She pretends that Alice isn’t crying, even though when she takes us all into the room with cubbies for the bags to go in Alice will only shuffle along with her face still hiding in my shirt. All of the cubbies have pictures on them and a space to write a name underneath, and Miss Kelly says that Edward and Alice can choose whichever one they want. I would pick the racing car, but Edward picks one with an apple on it because he’s a weirdo.

Miss Kelly tries to get Alice to choose but Alice is pretending she can’t even hear. She used to do this sometimes with Momma and Mark and it always made them so mad that they’d start hitting. Carlisle and Esme say that they don’t hit but I still don’t think Alice and I should make them too mad, just in case. I don’t know about this teacher. I know that none of the other kids are pretending they can’t hear the teacher and crying and hugging their big brothers and I start getting scared.

“Alice is just shy.” I try and explain. “So don’t get mad, and you don’t have to hit, because she won’t be naughty. She’ll choose the kitten, right Alice? She likes kittens. See Ali, it’s a little white kitty with a bow…you like that one. So that’s okay.”

Now all the grown ups have got the worried faces on that they sometimes get when I talk about things that happened with Momma, but I don’t know what I said this time. I just hug Ali tight and whisper that she’d better be good because now they’re all getting mad.

Dr Carlisle takes Edward into the classroom and Esme kneels down with Miss Kelly on either side of Alice and me.

“Emmett sweetie, you don’t have to worry. There is _no hitting_ at school,” Esme tells me. “No one is going to hurt you or Alice. School is a safe place, just like our house.”

“Absolutely,” Miss Kelly says. She pats me on the shoulder and then pats Alice on the back. “I promise, no one is going to hurt you here. We’re going to play some games and read some stories here in kindergarten Alice, and it’s going to be lots of fun. Emmett’s going to be having fun just next door in Miss Alex’s class, and you can see each other at recess time.”

“Come on Alice,” Esme gently tries to pull Alice’s arm away from me. “We need to put your backpack in the kitty cubby, and then we can go into the classroom and find something to play with.”

“What do you like?” Miss Kelly tries. “We have drawing, and books, and there’s some building blocks and some of the children are making a beach with shells on the sand table.”

I can see into the classroom and I know right away what Alice will want to play with, so I make a big sigh and tell her, even though I know it will mean Alice will go off and then I’ll have to go into the first grade room by myself. “They have the animals like at Esme and Dr Carlisle’s house,” I tell her. “But I think they have the tiger family here.”

I knew that would make Alice look up. She loves the animal toys at the Cullens’ house. They have a mom and a dad and a baby for lots of families, like the bears and the elephants and the camels and the turtles and lots more. They have dinosaurs and horses too. Esme even bought Alice the cat family just for a special treat for no reason! With the cat family came a little book that shows all the animals, and so Alice looked and looked and decided she wanted the tiger family. Esme and Dr Carlisle give us money called an allowance on Fridays and Alice is saving up all her money to buy the tiger family. So I knew she would want to go and play with the tigers here at school.

“Do you like the animals?” Miss Kelly’s voice is loud, but she doesn’t sound cross, and she gives Alice another big white smile. Alice doesn’t want to talk in words but she nods and Miss Kelly gives her another smile. “Would you like to come and see what ones we have? Emmett says you like the tigers, we have those…”

Alice is holding my hand and trying to make me come with her, but Esme takes her fingers and makes her let go. “Emmett has to go to the first grade,” she tells her. “Edward will be here in Miss Kelly’s room with you, but Emmett has to go to his classroom.”

Alice starts crying again, but this time Esme just picks her up. “Thank you for your help Emmett,” she says to me, trying to make her voice all happy. “How about Carlisle goes with you to your classroom? You and Alice can see each other at recess.”

I want to cry too when Esme carries Alice into the classroom with Miss Kelly talking to them. School is too noisy and scary, and I don’t like that Alice will be in a different classroom and I can’t look after her. But then Dr Carlisle comes and takes my hand and says, “Can you take me to first grade, Emmett? I want to see where you’re going to be sitting.”

First grade is next to the kindergarten room. Instead of a room with cubbies for backpacks this room has a porch with hooks on the wall and names on them. I don’t really want to put my Spiderman backpack down where anyone might take it, but Carlisle finds the hook that says EMMETT and I do it anyway. Then he makes me go into the classroom. There are lots of kids and their moms and dads in there, and I hold Carlisle’s hand tight and we stand near the door without doing anything.

“Let’s find your seat,” Carlisle says after a long time, and we go along the tables, looking at the names that are stuck to the tables.

“Is this mine?” I say. I don’t know. It has an E and an M like my name, but the other letters look different and sometimes writing tricks you.

“No, that says Emily,” Carlisle tells me. “It starts the same as Emmett though…here’s yours.”

I sit down on the little blue chair and look at Dr Carlisle. I bite my knuckles and think about how my teeth hurt on my skin so I don’t have to think about how my stomach hurts from being scared.

“It’s really going to be okay, buddy,” Dr Carlisle says, in his nice quiet voice. “You’ll have some fun at school, you’ll get to see Alice at recess and then you’ll have lunch in the cafeteria and in the afternoon Esme will come and pick you up and bring you back home.”

I bite harder. I know he thinks he’s saying the truth, but sometimes it’s hard to believe him. Because I know that the police can come and take the parents to jail and then the kids have to go and live somewhere else.

But sometimes I think Dr Carlisle is magic, because he knows things even when I don’t say them. He’s frowning at me in that thoughtful way and then he gives me a smile. “You think we won’t come back?”

I shrug. “Sometimes people don’t.”

“Sometimes things happen,” he says, nodding. “I know that your mom didn’t come back for you yet, but that’s not because she doesn’t love you. You know that she’s still working with the police and with Mara and the doctors to get better and make a safer home for you, right?” He waits until I nod, and then he says, “Esme and I aren’t going to leave you Emmett. I promise you, as long as you need us we’ll be there.”

I don’t say anything, and then Dr Carlisle wraps my fist in his big hand and takes it away from my mouth. “Take it easy buddy,” he says, and I see that I’ve bitten through the scabs on my knuckles and that there is even some blood. He wipes at it with a tissue from his pocket. “Remember how we talked about not doing that?”

I shrug. We did talk about it when I started making myself bleed, and I promised I would try not to do it but I can’t stop. Sometimes I must even do it when I’m asleep because I wake up and my hand is all bloody.

“Here, I’ve got something I want you to look after for me,” Dr Carlisle tells me, and he sounds all happy as he reaches into his shirt and pulls out his chain with the special upside down doctor watch on it. “What do you think, buddy? You can keep my watch for me today, and then you know I’ll be coming back for you.”

I can’t believe it when he hangs the chain over my head. Dr Carlisle showed the watch to me one day and it’s so special that he wears it every day when he goes to the hospital. Esme gave it to him when he first became a doctor and it has their names cut into the metal on the back. It’s upside down on the chain so that when he’s looking down he can still see what the time is. Dr Carlisle tucks it down the front of my shirt and it makes a little bump that I can touch. It does make me feel better because I know he wouldn’t just leave his special watch to get lost.

“You’ll take good care of it for me?”

I nod. “I promise.”

Dr Carlisle looks up and I realise that the teacher has been standing behind me. I frown instead of smiling at her because I didn’t want her to know things about my momma and she’s heard Dr Carlisle talking about her and the police and Mara and I bet know she knows everything.

Even though I’m making a scowling face, the teacher sits in the tiny chair next to me anyway. “Hi Dr Cullen, it’s good to see you again. Hi Emmett, I’m Miss Alex, and I’m going to be your teacher this year.”

I don’t say anything until Carlisle nudges my arm and then I say hello, but my voice is so soft I don’t even know if she hears me.

“Emmett’s feeling a bit uncertain about school this morning,” Dr Carlisle says.

“Well, the first day is an exciting one!” Miss Alex says. “And it’s okay to be a bit nervous Emmett. I think lots of the kids are. And do you want to know a secret? I feel a bit nervous too.”

I just look at her, and then she gives me a funny smile. “It’s your first day of being a student, but it’s my first day of being a teacher! I don’t want to make any mistakes!”

That makes me laugh, because I don’t think teachers make too many mistakes. They know how to read and write and I bet she can do math too and no one is going to laugh at her for being dumb.

Dr Carlisle laughs too. “I think you can both watch out for each other,” he says, and he rubs my head the way I like him to. “Now Emmett buddy, I’ve got to get to work. So I want you to do your best and have a good day, okay? If you need anything you can ask Miss Alex, and she’ll help you out.” He gives me a kiss on the forehead and then he and Miss Alex go and stand near the door to talk before Carlisle waves goodbye to me and then it’s just me in the noisy classroom.

I bite my knuckles until I can taste the blood, and I wait for the bell to ring.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I don’t know if I like school or not. There are some things I like. I like recess when we can all go out into the playground and run around. At first Alice wanted to play with me every day but now she has some friends from her kindergarten grade and they like to jump rope and pretend to be horses. So I play with the boys from first grade. Sometimes we play chase and I like that because I’m a fast runner, and sometimes we play space monsters on the climbing frame. There are balls and I’m learning to play basketball except the ring is so high I can never get it in. Sometimes we have baseball and that’s my favourite because I can bat better than all the other kids in my grade and even better than the kids in second grade too.

I like lunch in the cafeteria too. It’s just like the cafeteria at the hospital that Esme took me to on the first day that Alice went there, except here we don’t have to have money. They have our names in a book and they scan them with a scanner and send a bill home to the parents. Except my momma still isn’t looking after me so the bill goes to Carlisle and Esme. I worried that it cost too much money and they would run out and have to make drugs like Momma and Mark and me and Alice would have to go somewhere else again. But when I told Esme this she said that that wouldn’t happen and that she and Carlisle had enough money for me and Alice and Edward to eat however much we want for lunch every day.

I like doing gym, and I like when we have art and do painting. In science we learn about space and mini beasts and we do investigations. We do music and play with instruments and have library where we can borrow books if we want to. There are books about space and baseball and I borrowed those and Dr Carlisle reads them to me.

But I’m the dumbest kid in first grade and I hate it. Everyone can read and write except me. We do literacy for two whole hours every single day and I don’t know anything. I have to have baby books from the kindergarten and practise reading with flashcards and when we do writing my spelling is always wrong and Miss Alex has to write all over my paper with corrections.

Emily sits at my table with me and she is the smartest kid in our grade and always right about everything. It makes me feel dumb but I don’t mind so much because she is nice and doesn’t tease me and says she likes my drawing. When we do work in pairs Miss Alex makes Emily be my partner and calls us Em & Em like the candy and I think that’s kind of funny. It’s good when I do work with Emily because she lets me do the drawing and she does all the writing so our work gets ‘Excellent’ and for once I don’t have to be the worst.

Jesse White sits on the other side of the table and he’s as mean as a snake. He always laughs when I make a mistake, which is nearly all the time. One time I was trying to do my reading and he called me a retard and I was so mad I pushed him off the chair and was going to smash him but Miss Alex stopped me. Jesse was shouting and crying and half the other kids were shouting too and it was all chaos.

The made me go to the principal and Esme and Dr Carlisle had to come to the school. I felt bad then. They never would have to go the principal’s office because Edward had been fighting.

But after that Jesse White was kind of scared of me and didn’t call me names anymore, so it was pretty worth it.

That wasn’t the only fight though. Another time a big kid made Alice cry and I punched and kicked until she knocked me on to the ground and I got gravel all stuck in my knees. Then another time a kid said bad things about me living with the Cullens and not my momma and that was the worst fight because I didn’t stop hitting until Mr Davis the PE teacher pulled me away and held my arms so I couldn’t even hardly move. But I was still so mad that I kicked the teacher and shouted all the bad swear words I know and everyone had to come to the principal’s office again because I was so bad. After that I was supposed to sit on the step and miss recess for a whole week for punishment, but on the first day I chewed my hand so much that there was blood everywhere and the next day they said I could have my punishment in the library and look at books instead.

Dr Carlisle had to bandage my hand up like a fighter, even though I’m not allowed to watch fighting on their tv like I used to do at my momma’s house. I think the bandages look tough, but they taste yuck when I forget and put my hand in my mouth. Dr Carlisle gave me some gum to chew on instead and that was better.

Now every Thursday I have to go and see Laura after school. She is a doctor, but not at the hospital like Dr Carlisle, she is a doctor for feelings. Esme says she can help make people feel better about hard things in their life. Esme didn’t say, but I think my hard thing is not living with my momma because she does crack. Most kids’ moms don’t do that. And some of the things that Mark used to do to me and Alice are very bad things that he shouldn’t ever have done and it’s not our fault, but I think that is a hard thing as well. Sometimes Edward is a hard thing too, because he is smarter than me and never gets in trouble and is always better than me at everything except baseball.

At first I was scared of going to talk to Laura and I didn’t want Esme to leave me there by myself. But now I know that Laura can be like a special friend and I can tell her things about being mad and scared and things about my Momma, and sometimes it’s easier than telling Esme or Dr Carlisle because Laura doesn’t get the worried face that Esme does. Plus, she lets me draw instead of talk some days, and when it’s time to go home Esme always buys me ice cream.

Sometimes Alice visits Laura with me. She won’t go by herself and she won’t talk, but she likes to play with the toys. Alice draws pictures there too, but her pictures are always the same so that must be pretty boring for Laura. She always draws me and Esme and Dr Carlisle and Edward all in a row with herself in the middle. I draw different things every time.

Alice mostly likes school. She doesn’t hardly talk there, but she talks all about it when we go home to the Cullens’ house. She’s learning to read real quick and her writing is neater than mine and her spelling is better too.

I don’t think it’s fair that even Alice is smarter than me, but she still wets the bed so what does she know about anything.

Edward likes going to school. He is the smartest kid in the kindergarten and sometimes even comes into first grade for reading groups and is in the group for the best readers. He can read the chocolate factory book to himself, but he still listens to Dr Carlisle read it to us. Sometimes he makes me feel dumb, but sometimes he is nice to me like when he didn’t mind if I had the top bunk in the new bunk beds. Esme says that is being brothers.


	60. Extra-Edward POV

The day that Emmett came was not a Good Day. I did not know this in the morning, because that part of the day was all normal. I had oatmeal and raisins for breakfast, got dressed in my blue jeans and green tyrannosaurus shirt and tied up my shoelaces by myself, and then Mommy drove me to preschool.

At preschool I had fun playing. It was also Tuna Pasta Day for lunch, which is my favourite, and then it was my turn to choose the story for afterwards which is the best special job. Instead of Mommy coming to get me Andy’s mom took me home, and on the way we had ice cream and got to watch the fish fountain, so actually I thought it was a very Good Day.

But then I walked into my house and it became a Bad Day. Because sitting at the table with Mommy was a boy I didn’t know, eating a yoghurt cup and wearing MY spaceman pyjamas. Mommy said hi and gave me a hug, but she didn’t ask about preschool and ask to see my art like she normally does.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

Mommy said, “This is Emmett. He’s going to stay at our house for tonight. And Emmett, this is Edward.”

Emmett and I didn’t say hi. He just kept eating the yoghurt, and I said, “Those are my pyjamas.”

“Emmett is just borrowing them for tonight,” Mommy said.

She even frowned at me, which didn’t seem very fair. Why should a strange boy be wearing MY pyjamas? Why didn’t he have any pyjamas of his own?

“Edward, while I run your bath can you take Emmett in to the living room and show him the toys? You can choose something to play with Emmett. There are lots of cars and trains and Lego, or you could look at some books.”

When Mommy was in the bathroom Emmett finished the yoghurt. He didn’t put the spoon and the empty cup in the sink like he should have, so I did it for him. He didn’t even say thank you.

I took him in to the living room and showed him the shelves where I keep all my toys, and the Lego table. I hoped he didn’t want to play with the Lego, because Daddy and I had only just finished building the police station and I didn’t want it broken yet. But Mommy always says I have to share with guests, so I didn’t say anything.

“Are these toys all just for you?” Emmett said, like he couldn’t believe it. He looked all along the shelves and then went to the table and picked up the Lego fire truck and looked at it.

“Do you have Lego?” I asked him.

“No.”

Emmett put down the Lego fire truck and then picked up the police car, but even though he’d been careful with the fire truck this time he just broke the car in pieces! Even though it was new and I had hardly played with it yet!

I went to find Mommy in the bathroom so I could tell her that Emmett wasn’t playing nicely with the Lego. But when I got into the bathroom I had only just started telling her when I saw that my bath boats were all jumbled up instead of in the proper row that I left them in.

“Mommy, my boats…”

“Your boats? Oh sweetie…we’ll put them up the way you like after your bath. Emmett had a bath earlier and I just moved them out of the way.”

“Why is he at our house? He’s messing up the Lego and wearing my pyjamas!” I sat down to undo my shoes and take my socks off. “Why didn’t he have a bath at his house?”

“Emmett’s mommy isn’t very well, and he needs someone to look after him for tonight,” Mommy said.

I climbed into the bath and she gave me a clean face washer so I could wash my face and scrub the paint off where it was on my arm. “Is his mommy sick like my other mommy was sick?” I asked.

I had another mommy when I was little, but she got sick and died. I don’t remember very much, but I have her picture in a frame next to my bed. Her hair was the same colour as mine, and she was pretty.

“No, she’s not sick like your mommy was,” Mommy said. “But she can’t look after Emmett, and his little sister Alice is in the hospital with Daddy, so that’s why he’s here. He might be a little bit scared to be in a strange house, so I’d really like it if we all tried to be nice to him.”

I didn’t really feel like playing with my boats then, so I lined them all up on the edge of the bath in the right order. I felt sorry for Emmett that his mommy and his sister were sick, so I didn’t tell Mommy about him breaking my police Lego. “Is he going to sleep in my room or in the spare room?”

“I thought he might like sleeping in the other bed in your room, if that’s okay with you?”

I thought for a moment and then I said it was okay. I wasn’t sure if I liked Emmett, but I felt bad that his mommy was sick and his sister was in hospital so I thought it would be okay if we had a sleepover in my room.

“Thank you sweetheart, that’s very nice of you. Now, you run upstairs and get some jammies on, and I’ll go and see what Emmett is doing.”

When I came downstairs again, Mommy was in the kitchen chopping up tomatoes to make spaghetti sauce, and Emmett was building with the Lego. I wanted to shout at him when I saw that the police station was broken as well as the police car, but I thought that would not be being very nice to a guest so I didn’t. Instead I got out my trains and started making a track on the other side of the living room.

After a little while Emmett put down the Lego and came and watched me. “How old are you?” he asked.

“I’m five,” I said.

“I’m older than you. I’m seven.” He picked up a piece of track. “You should put this piece there.”

“It doesn’t go there.”

“It will be better if this piece goes there.”

“It won’t. This track has to go there, and that piece can go over there.”

I tried to show him, but Emmett just threw the piece of track down on the floor and went in to the kitchen. I thought he might be telling Mommy that I wasn’t sharing so I went in too, but really Emmett was just looking in the fridge.

“That’s a lot of food,” he said, and I thought he was a very strange boy, because it wasn’t that much food, it wasn’t even grocery day.

“Are you hungry?” Mommy asked. “I’m making us some spaghetti for dinner, and it will be ready as soon as Carlisle comes home.”

I could see that behind Mommy’s back Emmett snatched some grapes and shoved them all in his mouth at once. I opened my mouth to tell Mommy but he gave me such a mean look that I stopped, even though it’s not allowed to eat snacks close to dinner.

I heard the front door then, so I ran and jumped up to hug Daddy. He gave me a hug and asked me how preschool was and if I had fun like he always did, and he carried me into the kitchen. He had a little paper sack and I tried to take it out of his hands to see what it was.

“Is this for me?”

“Nope.” Daddy put me down and ruffled my hair, and then went and gave Mommy a kiss and said, “Hi Emmett, how are you doing?”

“Is Alice still at the hospital by herself? Did she wake up?” Emmett chewed on the sleeve of the pyjamas and I thought he looked scared.

“A nurse called Katie is looking after Alice tonight,” Daddy said. “Alice woke up and had some juice and a sandwich and I told her that we’d be looking after you tonight and that you’ll go and see her in the morning.” He opened up the paper sack and gave Emmett a toothbrush. “Here you go buddy, I thought you’ll need one for tonight. I got Spiderman, since you had him on your t-shirt today I thought you might like him.”

Emmett took the toothbrush from Daddy, but he didn’t say thank you, which was not good manners.

“I’ve got some worm medicine too,” Daddy told Mommy. “We got a sample from Alice and she’s infested, so Emmett probably is too. I thought we’d better get that out of the way right away. Come here Emmett, I want you to take some of this medicine, so we can make sure there’s no worms in your tummy.”

“No way,” Emmett gave Daddy an even meaner look than he gave me. “I don’t have no worms in my tummy and I don’t want no fucking medicine. You can’t make me.”

I could not believe that he said such a bad word right at Daddy! And Daddy and Mommy didn’t even do anything!

Daddy just smiled and said, “I can’t make you, but I think it would be a really good idea. It’s just a little chewy tablet that tastes a bit like candy. Alice had some in the hospital.” He showed Emmett the medicine, which was small and round and orange.

“You shouldn’t have given her any!” Emmett growled. “That medicine isn’t for kids! Kids’ medicine is like a drink and we have it on a spoon.”

“Ahh.” Daddy nodded like he had just solved a problem. “Your mom sometimes had medicine like this?”

Emmett didn’t say anything, and after a moment Daddy said, “Well, you’re right to be careful about taking medicine. That’s smart, because some medicine can be dangerous. But medicine can be a really good thing when we get it from a doctor and take it just like the directions say. I got this from the pharmacy at the hospital, and on the box it tells me exactly how much we should take. See?”

He showed it to Emmett, but he just shook his head and mashed his lips together like Daddy might try and force it into his mouth.

“Would it help you feel better if we took some too?” Daddy asked. “This medicine isn’t going to hurt anyone – if there are any worms in someone’s tummy it will make them go away, but you won’t even feel it. On the box it says that kids should take one tablet with their food, and adults should take two. So how about it? Esme and I and Edward will have some with you, so we can be sure that no one has any worms?”

Emmett still didn’t look very sure, but he didn’t say no and he watched very carefully as Daddy took out two tablets and chewed them up. “Tastes like orange,” he said, “Here you go Esme, and one for you too Edward. Chew it up.”

Mommy took her tablets, and Daddy gave me one too. I didn’t really want it, but I thought about having worms in my tummy and that made me feel a bit sick so I quickly chewed it up. It tasted like an orange candy.

“See?” Daddy said to Emmett. “We’ve all had some, and no one is sick or acting funny, right? You have yours, and then we’ll all have spaghetti for dinner.”

I sat at the table and watched Emmett, who sat across from me and played with the tablet. I could tell he didn’t want to eat it, but when he saw Mommy putting the spaghetti in the bowls he chewed it up anyway, so he could have spaghetti. I think spaghetti must be his favourite, because he ate so fast that his bowl was empty when I had only had five bites. He even ate a whole second bowl before I had finished one! He made a big mess too. Spaghetti is hard to eat neatly, but I don’t think Emmett even tried.

Mommy helped us wash our faces and clean our teeth. Emmett used the new Spiderman toothbrush Daddy had bought him. Mommy brushed our hair too. Emmett’s hair was very dark and very curly, and I liked it when Mommy brushed it and then it all just whooshed back into little springs. Emmett didn’t want to leave his new Spiderman toothbrush in the bathroom, so he carried it with him when we went back out.

Daddy said that Emmett and I could choose a game, and then we’d all play it when he and Mommy were finished washing the dishes.

“Do you have an x-box?” Emmett asked. “Mark has one at my house.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know that game. We have these ones.” I showed him the stack of games in the cupboard.

“I know how to play that one,” Emmett said, pointing to Candy Land. “My grandma had that game and she played with me and Alice.”

Candy Land is a very easy game to play, and we played two games before bedtime. Mommy won one game and Emmett won the other game, and Daddy came last both times. After that it was time to go to the toilet and then get in bed.

Daddy came up with us and turned on the rocket nightlight. Usually he and I read from a chapter book at bedtime, but Daddy said that since Emmett would not know what was happening in the story we could just skip tonight and read some picture books instead. I was a little bit disappointed, but when we read picture books Daddy and I take it in turns to read a page which is quite fun, so I didn’t mind too much. Daddy and I read Green Eggs and Ham and The Lorax. Emmett didn’t want to read, but I thought he liked the stories anyway.

It was a little bit strange sharing my bedroom. With the nightlight on I could see Emmett in the other bed, and he was noisy because he kept rolling over and kicking the blankets. But I was very tired after preschool and playing all day, and I don’t think it took me very long to fall asleep.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The next day when I woke up Emmett was already gone from the bedroom. I thought maybe his mommy was better and had taken him back to his house, but when I went downstairs he was sitting up at the table and drinking milk.

Mommy gave me a kiss and then gave me some milk too. “What do you two want for breakfast? What do you like Emmett? Eggs, or some oatmeal?”

“Sometimes me and Alice have pop-tarts,” he told Mommy. “Or Count Chocula.”

I wished I could have pop-tarts. Mommy says they’re junk and doesn’t buy them, but I had them at Andy’s house once and I thought they tasted good.

“Well, we don’t have any pop-tarts or cereal today,” Mommy said. “Would you like some oatmeal with raisins and honey? That’s what Edward likes.”

Emmett looked like he would rather have pop-tarts, but when Mommy gave him the oatmeal he ate it so fast that he burned his mouth and even said, “It’s good,” as though it was a surprise.

Mommy would tell me not to eat like a barbarian if I ate my food so fast and so messy, but she didn’t say anything to Emmett.

We got dressed and even though it was already hot Emmett put on his woolly red sweater. He kept asking Mommy about going to the hospital to visit his sister, but Mommy was talking on the phone for nearly an hour and kept telling us to wait.

Then she got out some cardstock and markers and said we should make cards for Emmett’s sister, since she was sick in hospital and that’s what people do. So we did that, while Mommy made even _more_ phone calls. Emmett drew a pretty good picture of a boy and a girl on his card, but when I told him to write ‘Get Well Soon’ he just shook his head and drew a rainbow on the inside of the card instead. I wrote ‘Get Well Soon’ but I didn’t know how to spell his sister’s name and Emmett wouldn’t even tell me.

When Mommy was finally off the phone she spelled ‘Alice’ for me so I could finish my card, and then she said we could go to the hospital and visit Daddy and Emmett’s sister. I put on my sneakers but Emmett didn’t have shoes so he went in bare feet.

I always like visiting Daddy at the hospital. I don’t get to do it very often, because Daddy is a doctor and that is a busy and important job, but sometimes we go and have lunch with him in the cafeteria.

Emmett’s sister was upstairs in a room with two other kids, and had the curtain pulled around her bed to make it private. Mommy stopped at the desk to talk to the nurse, but Emmett ran right in and climbed up on the bed and his sister hugged and hugged him. She was much smaller than Emmett and had a very smiley face, and her black hair was in a bunch that looked like a bird’s nest.

“Are you better?” Emmett asked her. “Did Momma come? I stayed at Esme’s house last night, Esme from the food pantry. That’s Edward, her son.”

Since she was looking at me I gave Alice the card I made. She didn’t say thank you, but she smiled at me so I think that’s what she meant. Emmett’s card had got crumpled when he climbed on the bed, but Alice held them both tight in one hand. In her other hand she had a pink and blue teddy bear. Mommy knits those teddy bears sometimes, and then kids who come into the hospital can have a teddy bear to hug if they’re feeling sad or scared. I wondered if Mommy had knitted this bear that Alice had.

“Hello!” It was Daddy, coming into the room and smiling at everyone. He gave ma kiss and then ruffled Emmett’s hair. “And how are you feeling this morning, Miss Alice?”

Alice smiled at Daddy but still didn’t say anything, so I asked, “Can she even talk?”

“Of course she can talk!” Emmett said, sounding cross. “She’s four! She just doesn’t want to right now, that’s all.”

I hadn’t meant to make him mad. I had just wondered if maybe Alice didn’t talk and if she could talk with her hands instead like the lady that came to preschool once.

“That’s okay,” Daddy said, looking at the chart on the end of Alice’s bed. “But if something doesn’t feel good Alice, do you think you could point to it for me? Does your head hurt, or your tummy hurt?”

Alice shook her head and hugged her teddy and her cards. Even when Daddy asked her some other questions she still didn’t say anything.

“She feels better now,” Emmett told Daddy. “See, she’s awake and everything! So I think now me and Alice need to go home to our momma.” He chewed on the sleeve of his sweater.

Daddy sat down on the edge of the bed. “You can’t go home right now,” he said to Emmett. “The police have been there and taken away a lot of things to do with making drugs, but it’s still not a good place for you and Alice to be.”

Emmett looked very upset. “But what will happen? When can I see Momma? Where is she?”

“I’m not sure right now,” Daddy said. “At the moment we’re waiting on a visit from the social worker, who is a lady whose job it is to see that you and Alice have a safe place to live and people to care for you. She’ll probably know more about your mom, too. So even though it’s hard, at the moment we just need to wait.”

Emmett was chewing his sweater so hard I thought he might bite a hole in it. I didn’t really understand what Daddy was talking about, but it was making Emmett look very mean, although he kept blinking very fast like he was trying not to cry.

Before he could make a fuss though, Mommy came in with three cookies and three jello cups, and a pile of movies. “Snack time!” she said, sharing out the food. “And I’ve bought some movies in so you can choose one and the three of you can watch a movie while we wait to hear from the social worker.”

Alice had her own tv on the ceiling at the end of her bed. Mommy showed her the movies and asked her if she’d like to choose one, but Alice just looked confused and shook her head. I thought we should choose Toy Story, but Emmett picked Finding Nemo and gave that to Mommy.

“This is your favourite!” he said to Alice.

Emmett and Alice sat on the bed together to watch the movie, and I sat in the chair at the side of the bed. We all ate our cookies and jello, even though it was hard for Alice because she didn’t want to put down her teddy or her cards.

When the movie finished, Alice and Emmett were both actually asleep in the bed, so I got up very quietly and went to find Mommy. I followed voices until I found Mommy and Daddy talking with another lady in the tv room.

“…can discharge her today, she’s physically stable. Neurologically, the nurses have raised a couple of concerns but it’s impossible to judge that now. Alice isn’t talking more than a word or two, and of course there’s no history of well-checks with a paediatrician to provide a baseline. Both children are malnourished and Alice certainly had a bellyful of worms, we’ve documented that, as well as the bruises and marks on Emmett. It may be worthwhile x-raying him to check out any healed fractures if we need more…hey, Edward buddy, what are you doing?”

When Daddy said my name I went in and climbed on his lap. “The movie finished, and Emmett and Alice are both asleep.”

“I think they’re both probably pretty tired,” Daddy said. “Yesterday was a pretty big day for them. Edward, this is Mara. She’s the social worker who’s going to be looking out for Emmett and Alice while their mom is working on getting better.”

Mara smiled at me. “Hello Edward. It’s nice to meet you.”

I said hello back and then asked, “Is their mommy still sick?”

“She’s not very well, and it’s not really safe for Emmett and Alice to go back home with her right now,” Mommy said.

“Will they stay in the hospital?” I asked. I have never had to stay in hospital, but I know you get to watch lots of movies and eat your food in bed on a tray.

Mommy and Daddy looked at each other and I got a funny feeling that maybe I wouldn’t like what was coming next.

“Well, they can’t really stay in hospital,” Daddy said. “They’re both pretty healthy, and we need the beds in the hospital for sick kids. What usually happens to kids like Emmett and Alice who can’t live with their parents for some reason, is that they go and live with a foster family. A family who has room for them to come and stay and who promises to look after them until they can go back to their parents.”

“And we thought that it might be best for Emmett and Alice if they came and stayed with us for a while,” Mommy said. “We could be their foster family.”

“Really?” I was shocked. Nobody else I knew had a foster family. “For how long?”

“For as long as they need us,” Daddy told me. “Sometimes kids are n foster care for a few days or weeks, or sometimes it can be a few months or even more. Right now we don’t know how long it’s going to take Emmett and Alice’s mommy to feel better and be ready to look after them.”

“What do you think about that, Edward?” Mara asked.

I looked at Mommy, but she just nodded at me to answer by myself. “Emmett broke my police station Lego,” I said. “And he eats like a barbarian.”

All the adults laughed, but I was being serious. He _did_ break my police Lego, and if I ate so messy as he did Mommy would scold me about being a barbarian.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to show him how to eat with beautiful manners,” Daddy said, tickling me in my ribs. “But apart from that…how would you feel about Emmett and Alice coming to stay for a while? You would have to share your room and your toys, but it would mean you have two extra people to play with.”

I didn’t know if Emmett would be fun to play with, but Alice looked nice and smiley and if she didn’t ever talk she couldn’t really be all that annoying. I also felt bad that their mommy was sick, because when my first mommy got sick she died.

“Is foster family like being adopted?” I asked.

Mara smiled at me. “A foster family is a little bit different to being adopted. Being adopted means it’s forever – like you, you got new parents and they’re going to be your mommy and daddy for always. But with a foster family the children might only stay for a little while, and they might still have visits with their parents or relatives while they’re living with the foster family.”

“What about their dad?” I asked, playing with Daddy’s special upside down doctor watch. I carefully counted the minutes so I could tell the time.

“Well, we’re looking for Emmett’s dad,” Mara said. “And maybe if we find him he’ll be able to take care of him.”

“My friend Andy’s dad lives in Oklahoma,” I told her.

I was glad I had my daddy at home. I thought about how I would feel if he was in Oklahoma and if Mommy got sick and I had to go and live with a foster family and I thought it would be very scary, so I didn’t say that I didn’t want to be a foster family for Emmett and Alice. “Where will they sleep? And we only have four chairs at our table and we would need five.”

“We’ll bring in a spare chair from the garage,” Mommy said. “And Emmett can sleep in your room, and Alice can sleep next door in the little bedroom.”

“Oh.” I leaned back against Daddy. “Will they go to preschool too?”

“Not with you. If they usually go to preschool or daycare we’ll find out and take them to their own school, but it’s nearly summer vacation anyway,” Daddy said.

I thought about summer vacation. It was a long time without preschool, and this year we weren’t going away on a vacation because we went to Disneyland on the spring break. “It might be good to have someone else to play with on vacation,” I said.

“I’m sure you and Alice and Emmett will be able to have some good fun,” Mara said to me. Then she pushed a big stack of paper over to Mommy and Daddy. “Luckily we still have your homestudy and police checks and things on file from Edward’s adoption, which is really going to speed up the process of you being formally approved as foster carers. In the meantime we need to get you to sign here, and here, and here…”

Daddy and Mommy signed their name on lots of pieces of paper. I tried to read what they said, but Daddy moved them away too quickly once he wrote his name and I didn’t really understand what I was reading anyway.

“Why don’t you go and say hi to the nurses on the desk?” Mommy suggested. “We’ll only be a little bit longer.”

At the desk the nurses let me spin on their spinning chair, and gave me some bandaids with cartoon characters on them so I stuck them on my knees to pretend I had an injury. I was telling them all about preschool when Mommy and Daddy came out of the tv room with Mara, and then they went in to Alice and Emmett.

I went in with them and leaned against Daddy while Mommy woke up Emmett and Alice, and then Mara introduced herself to them. She told them that their mom had been talking to the police, and that she would be working with their mom to get better and fix up their house so they could go home. She told them that someone called Mark was in jail, and he wouldn’t be allowed to live with them anymore, which was the only thing that made Emmett smile. Then she told them that for a little while they would have visits with their mommy in her office, and that Mommy or Daddy would take them.

After a long time of talking, Mara said goodbye and Daddy said that since she was feeling so much better Alice could go home with Mommy and Emmett and me. He signed even _more_ papers, and then Mommy helped Alice put on her dress instead of the hospital nightie. Her dress was very dirty and she didn’t have any shoes, but she didn’t seem to mind. It was already lunchtime by then, so even though Daddy had to go back to work Mommy took us to the hospital cafeteria and we had chicken nuggets and fries. We were even allowed to have pudding for a treat, and I finally heard Alice talk, since when Mommy asked what flavour she wanted Alice said, “Chocolate.”

“Mara hasn’t been able to get any of your things from your house yet,” Mommy said, when we were all finishing our puddings. “So I think on the way home we’ll have to stop and buy you some clothes and some shoes. Some shorts and t-shirts and pyjamas…maybe a bathing suit, and then we can play in the wading pool this afternoon? Does that sound like a good idea?

Emmett looked very worried. “But what about the money? That’s too many things. Shoes cost lots of money, and it’s okay to have no shoes in summer.”

“Don’t worry about the money,” Mommy said to him. “Mara said that if we need it there are special grants and things for foster families, but really it’s fine. We have enough money to buy you what you’ll need for the next little while.”

Mommy picked up Alice to carry her out to the car, and I walked next to her. As we were leaving the cafeteria I saw Emmett swipe a package of gummy bears and hide them in his pocket. I could not believe what a bad boy he was! But when I opened my mouth to tell, he grabbed my arm and whispered very fiercely, “If you tell your mom I will smash you!”

I closed my mouth. I didn’t know if he would really try and smash me right there in the hospital corridor, but I thought I didn’t really want to find out. I know that stealing is very wrong, and I thought I might talk to Mommy later, when Emmett wasn’t there.

Our first stop was the shoe shop. The man had to measure Alice and Emmett’s feet even though they were so dirty, and then Mommy said they could choose some sandals and some sneakers. It took forever. Emmett wouldn’t stop chewing on his sweater, and then he couldn’t even do up shoelaces so we had to find sneakers with Velcro for him. Alice liked all the shoes too much and couldn’t choose for a really long time. Mommy just sat with her while she decided, and I had enough time to measure my feet and walk around the shop with tiny little steps and try on some giant motorcycle boots and spin the rack with socks on it and count how many chairs they had and tidy up the shoes that were in the wrong row or not neatly in the box. When they were finally done the man thanked me for tidying and gave us each a lollipop.

Mommy bought Emmett some socks off the rack so he could wear his new sneakers out of the shop. Alice wore her new white sandals with pink flowers on them and she liked them so much that she kept looking at her feet when she was walking instead of looking where she was going and she walked right into the door!

Next we went to Target, and we bought a lot of things - t-shirts and shorts and pyjamas and sweaters and dresses and underpants and socks and bathing suits for Emmett and Alice. Even I got a new bathing suit and a new t-shirt with a picture of a brachiosaurus on it. Emmett didn’t want a new sweater and wouldn’t choose one, and he kept asking Mommy about money. Alice just took ages to choose anything. She liked things that were pink or had cats on them, and when I found a t-shirt that was pink with a silver sparkly cat on it she jumped up and down because she was so happy and carried it all around the store and wouldn’t even put it in the cart. Mommy bought a toothbrush for Alice and some hairbands and a hairbrush for little girls’ hair, but I didn’t know how she would ever be able to brush Alice’s hair because it was so tangled up. Finally after all that we were able to go home.

Mommy said we could have the wading pool since it was hot, so we all put on our new bathing suits and ran out in to the yard. Emmett helped hold the hose to fill the pool up. Alice and I jumped in right away, even though it was so cold it made me shout. But Emmett wouldn’t take off his woolly sweater even though it was so hot his face was all red and his hair was sweaty. So he sat with Mommy in the shade instead of wading.

I showed Alice how I could blow bubbles underwater like my teacher taught me at swimming lessons. She liked blowing bubbles too, so we pretended we were fish and swam all around. It was much more fun than being a fish by myself and I was glad we were a foster family and I had Alice to play with in the wading pool.

I think Alice liked playing with me, but she also kept jumping out of the pool and running over to Emmett to try and make him play too. “Sharks Emmett, come be sharks!” she said, pulling on his arm.

I guess Emmett finally got too hot, because he took off his sweater and came in the wading pool with us. Then our game got even better because Emmett pretended he was a shark and he wanted to eat up Alice and me because we were little fish, so we were swimming and chasing all over. At first I thought his back and part of his legs were all dirty, but when it didn’t wash off in the water I saw it must really be bruises.

I didn’t want to ask Emmett, so when I was tired of playing I went and sat with Mommy, all wrapped up in my towel, and I asked her what happened to Emmett.

For a moment I thought she might not answer, but then she said, “There was a man who lived with Emmett and Alice and their mommy, and sometimes he used to hurt Emmett. That’s another reason why we’re looking after them for now, so they can be in a safe place where no one will hurt them.”

I knew that sometimes some moms and dads might spank their kids, even though my mommy and daddy never do, but I didn’t know that a grown up would ever hurt a kid so much that they would have bruises all over like Emmett. “Did he hurt Alice too?”

“We don’t know,” Mommy said, and she leaned over and gave me a hug.

“I don’t like it when people get hurt,” I said.

“Me either,” Mommy said. “But that man is going to go to jail, so even when Emmett and Alice go back to live with their mom he won’t hurt them ever again.”

I fiddled with the corner of my towel. I felt very sorry for Emmett and I didn’t really want to get him in trouble, but Mommy and Daddy always said it was important to do the right thing, so when I was sure he and Alice were too busy in the wading pool to hear me I whispered to Mommy, “I saw Emmett take some gummy bears at the hospital. He hid them in his pocket.”

Mommy looked like she was thinking very hard. “I think Daddy and I will have a talk with him about that. I’m glad you told me. But we’re going to have to be very patient with Emmett and Alice – they’ve had a hard time and they might not always do the right thing. We’ll need to be very kind while we help them learn the rules…do you think you can do that?”

I nodded. I’m very good at following the rules; that’s what Mommy and Daddy and my teacher at preschool said. And I thought I could try and be nice to Emmett and Alice, and share my things since they didn’t have anything of their own yet except the new clothes and shoes Mommy bought them.

Mommy gave me a big hug. “I love you Edward, and you’re going to be the best foster brother for Emmett and Alice that there is.”

We played outside in the yard and in the wading pool until Daddy came home. Alice got all shy and went and sat with Mommy, but when Daddy asked her if she had a good day she pointed to where her new shoes were sitting on the step and gave a big smile before she hid her face.

Daddy asked Emmett if it was a good afternoon and Emmett said that our wading pool was pretty fun, even though it wasn’t big like the river at his house. When Daddy asked me I threw water at him and then he roared like a lion and kicked off his shoes and jumped in the wading pool to make a big splash, even though he still had his clothes on!

Mommy said “Carlisle!” like she was pretending to be mad, and I laughed and laughed and kicked water at him and then Emmett joined in and Daddy ran away around the yard while we chased him. It was the best fun of the whole day.

We had a bath and put pyjamas on, and then Daddy cooked dinner while Mommy sat Alice at the table and tried to comb her hair. It was a disaster! Alice’s bird’s nest hair was so tangled that some of the teeth broke off the comb when Mommy tried to smooth it out. A little bit later Mommy muttered something that sounded like a swear word and took Alice back to the bathroom and washed her hair with the special shampoo that we bought when I got lice in my hair from preschool. Alice cried and screamed the whole time. Emmett kept telling her to shut up and kept saying sorry to Mommy and asking her to please stop, and since his pyjamas had short sleeves and he couldn’t chew on them he bit his hand so much that there were purple tooth marks on his knuckles.

Eventually Mommy gave up and tied Alice’s hair out of her face, even though some of it looked like dog fur and some of it looked like strings. After that she inspected Emmett’s hair and he had to get washed with the special shampoo too. Mommy looked in my hair too and said I was fine, but I was so worried about having bugs in my hair that I made her look again. Because of all that it was very late when we sat down to dinner.

“What is that?” Emmett asked, looking at his dinner like it was poison.

“Salmon,” Daddy told him. “That’s a kind of fish…do you like fish?”

“I like fish sticks.”

“Well, give the salmon a try, you might like it. And for salad we have tomato, peppers, carrots, cucumber, avocado and some feta cheese.” Daddy pointed to all the little bowls on the table. “You can mix it all up together and have some dressing on it like I do, or you can eat things separately, like Edward likes to do. And there’s some bread too, if you want it.”

“I don’t like salad.”

“If there’s something you don’t like after you try it you can just leave it on your plate,” Mommy said.

I chose my salad (everything except avocado) and then carefully started eating my salmon. It’s not supposed to have bones in it, but sometimes the fish man misses them and I wouldn’t like to get one stuck inside me.

Emmett ate all of his salmon, and I guess he wasn’t afraid of fish bones because he at it in fast, big bites. Even though he had said he didn’t like salad, Emmett had a piece of everything on his plate. He ate nearly everything, but when he tried the avocado he spat it back on his plate!

“Mommy!” I said. “Look!”

“I didn’t like it!” Emmett said. “It’s all slimy.”

“But you’re not allowed to spit it out! I can’t eat with that chewed up piece on your plate! It will make me feel sick!”

“Edward!” Mommy said, sounding fed up, “You’re not going to be sick. Look, I’ll get rid of it for you.” She took her napkin and wiped away the spit out food from Emmett’s plate. “See? All gone. And Emmett, spitting food back on to your plate isn’t very good table manners. But if there’s something you _really_ don’t like and you really _have_ to spit it out, you can use your napkin.”  

Emmett spitting food out was bad, but then it all got worse. Alice didn’t eat her salmon and the only salad she ate was carrots and cucumber and feta. But she ate all the cheese and lots of bread and drank two cups of milk, and when we had brownies and ice cream for dessert she ate all hers up and pushed her bowl to Mommy to ask for more, even though she had already had a big piece.

Mommy gave her another little piece but she said, “Are you sure you can fit it in? You’ve had a lot to eat.”

Alice nodded, but as soon as she finished her second brownie she made a gagging noise and was sick right on the table! It was the most awful thing ever, and I was nearly sick too because it was so disgusting.

Alice started crying and ran to hide behind Emmett. He stood up from his chair and held her very tight and said, “She didn’t mean it! It was an accident!” He hugged Alice and then said again, “She’s sorry, she’s really sorry, she didn’t mean it…” He looked scared, like he thought Mommy and Daddy might shout at him.

“Oh sweetie, it’s okay,” Mommy said. “Of course it was an accident! Let’s just take you into the bathroom Alice, and we’ll wipe your face and clean your teeth…can you take care of the mess, Carlisle?”

I couldn’t stay in the kitchen with Alice’s sick all over the table, so I went in to the bathroom with Mommy and Emmett and Alice. Mommy wiped Alice’s face and when she stopped crying we all brushed our teeth.

Before we had to go to bed Mommy read to us. We had The Very Hungry Caterpillar and The Paper Bag Princess and Where the Wild Things Are and The Monster at the End of This Book. I sat next to Mommy on one side and Alice sat on the other side and Emmett sat next to Alice.

I was very tired when it was time to go to bed. After Mommy kissed me goodnight I got straight in under the covers. But Emmett wouldn’t lie down and then he went in to the little bedroom next door where Mommy was sitting with Alice who was supposed to be going to sleep in there. Daddy came in and tucked me in, and even though usually he just says goodnight and goes back downstairs, this time I held his hand so he would stay.

“Are you feeling okay?”

I didn’t say anything.

“I guess it’s a big change having Emmett and Alice here,” Daddy said.

I nodded. “It was fun playing in the wading pool, but…”

“But it’s going to take a while to get used to it?” Daddy guessed. He rubbed my head. “It’s been just you and me and Mommy for a while, hasn’t it? Two more kids make a big difference.”

“And I don’t know how long they will stay,” I said. “I don’t like not knowing if they’ll be here for one week or for the whole vacation!”

Daddy smiled. “I know you don’t. But it’s something that can’t be helped.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I love you buddy. Mommy and I are so proud of you for being such a good sport about having them here. We think it’s great that you’re doing such a good job at sharing and being kind to them, and we’re sure that Emmett and Alice appreciate it.”

It made me feel good to know that Daddy loved me and thought I was being nice to Emmett and Alice and sharing my mommy with them. I closed my eyes and listened to Daddy leaving the room and Mommy and Emmett talking in the bedroom next door, and waited to go to sleep.

And that’s how Emmett and Alice came to live at my house and how we became a foster family.

 

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That all happened before summer vacation. But now vacation is nearly over and Emmett and Alice are still here. Next week we all start school.

I’m excited about going to school. I can already read and write lots of things, and when I go to school I’ll learn even more. When I was still in preschool we went on a visit to the school so I know where my classroom is and I met my new teacher, who will be Miss Alex. We saw the cafeteria and the library and the gym and got to play in the playground.

At school we have to wear blue shorts and polo shirts, so the other day Mommy took us all shopping to buy them. As well as new clothes for school we each got a new backpack to carry our things, and Mommy bought a whole stack of paper and markers and pencils and erasers and glue sticks and scissors to give to our teachers.

Alice is excited about going to school too. She can’t read yet, and Mommy had to show her how to write her name. Alice likes writing and sometimes she asks me to write down words so she can copy them. Now she knows how to write ‘Alice’ and ‘Emmett’ and ‘Mommy’ and ‘Daddy’ and ‘Edward’, although she sometimes makes mistakes or does her letters the wrong way. She’s going to be in kindergarten with me, but Emmett is going to be in first grade even though he never went to kindergarten or even preschool.

Emmett can’t read anything, even though he’s seven. Mommy tries to teach him letters and writing but he doesn’t like it and can only write ‘Emmett’. At first I thought maybe he wasn’t very smart, but Mommy said that lots of kids can’t read before they go to school and that he will learn, and wasn’t I lucky that I have had two mommies and a daddy who liked to read me books and teach me things? I think this is probably true.

Now I don’t think Emmett is stupid at all, even if he can’t read. He’s very good at playing games and he always has the best ideas for things to do, and he’s not scared of anything. He is the best at playing baseball out of any kid I have ever seen. He doesn’t want to go to school though.

We still don’t know how long Emmett and Alice are going to live with us. I don’t really understand what’s wrong with their mom and why they can’t go and live with her again, but Mommy and Daddy and Mara say that she’s still not well enough. Every week she is supposed to go to Mara’s office and Mommy takes Emmett and Alice there so they can visit with her.

Sometimes I like visitation days. While Alice and Emmett are at the office with Mara and their mommy I either stay home with Daddy, or Mommy takes me for ice cream, and both of these are Good Things. I am used to being a foster family with Alice and Emmett now, but sometimes it is nice not to have to share my Mommy and Daddy for a little while.

Visitation days aren’t always very good though. Sometimes Emmett has fun at the visit and comes home all smiling and laughing and extra happy. But sometimes the visits are bad, or else his mommy doesn’t even come, and then he is angry and sometimes mean.

Alice doesn’t like visitation days at all. She doesn’t want to go and visit her mommy, and so sometimes she cries before they go and Emmett yells at her. Sometimes Mommy has to carry Alice into Mara’s office because she won’t even walk, and then Mara has to hold Alice while Mommy and I leave quickly. Those are always Bad Days, because even if we go for ice cream Mommy is still worried about Alice and so it’s not very cheerful.

The other day was the worst visitation day ever. Alice didn’t want to go, and when Mommy said it was time Alice just pretended like she couldn’t hear and kept playing. She wouldn’t talk or even put on her shoes, so Mommy had to do it. I knew it was going to be a day when Mommy had to carry Alice into Mara’s office and I was right.

Mommy and I left quickly, but even when the door was shut I could still see through it and Alice was crying. But Mommy just looked straight ahead and walked very fast, so I nearly had to run to keep up.

We went for ice cream. Mommy chose butterscotch and I chose chocolate with sprinkles. I had only eaten half of it when Mommy’s phone rang. When she saw who was calling she snatched it up right away.

“Hello?....Oh, no…Okay, we’ll be there in a minute.” Mommy put the phone in her bag and leaned over to wipe my face with a napkin. “I’m sorry Edward, we have to go.”

“But I haven’t finished yet!”

“I’m sorry, you’ll just have to leave it. We need to go and collect Alice and Emmett.”

“Already?” I was so angry I wanted to scream and stamp my feet and make a big fuss. Their visitation time wasn’t over yet, so why should I have to leave my ice cream and go and pick them up? “Mommy, no…”

Mommy didn’t even listen. I had to leave my dish of ice cream on the counter and even though I was crying she just took my hand and marched me out to the car. When she was helping me buckle up my seatbelt she gave me a hug and a kiss though, and said, “I’m sorry sweetheart. We can have some ice cream later at home, I promise. But that was Mara on the phone and she said that Alice and Emmett need us to come now.”

Ice cream at home isn’t as good as ice cream at the ice cream store with just me and Mommy, so I just kicked the back of the seat and didn’t say anything. It wasn’t fair.

At Mara’s office Mommy and I went in to the playroom. There are lots of toys in the playroom and that’s where Alice and Emmett visit with their mommy, but when we got there she wasn’t there and Mara was sitting on a little chair with Alice on her lap, holding an icepack on her face. As soon as she saw Mommy Alice started crying and pushing Mara away so that Mommy could pick her up.

At first I couldn’t see Emmett, but then I found him scrunched down on the floor in the corner, biting hard on his hand. I hate it when he does that, because his hands always look sore and sometimes they even bleed.

“It’s okay sweetie,” Mommy said, rubbing Alice’s back while she hid her face in Mommy’s t-shirt. “You’re okay now…what happened?”

Usually Mommy and Mara tell me to go and play while they talk, but this time they were so worried about Alice that I guess they didn’t notice me standing behind Mommy.

Mara shook her head. “She’s had a rough day. Melody was late, and on something when she got here, although I didn’t realise it then. Alice was…well, you know she didn’t want to be here, and I guess she decided to let her mom know how she felt. I was coming in to intervene when Melody hit her. Her face… Security got Melody to leave, and I’ve had ice on Alice since then, so I don’t know if it will bruise.”

“Ouch.” Mommy tipped Alice’s face back to look at her, and I saw that where she had had the icepack covering it was bright red. Mommy kissed her. “Is it feeling better, sweetie?”

“She’s just being a stupid fucking baby.” Emmett came over, and he looked so angry and so mean I was scared of him. “It’s all her own dumb fault…if you hadn’t been so stupid to Momma then…”

“No, no no!” Alice screamed so loudly that it made me jump, and then she even tried to kick Emmett in the head. Mommy held her foot so she couldn’t, and Alice then Alice gave Mommy a strangling kind of hug and cried so hard we could hardly understand what she was saying. “No! I didn’t…want you…be my mommy…”

Emmett stomped out of the playroom and slammed the door, and Mommy and Mara talked a little bit more but I couldn’t hear them over Alice crying. Then we finally all got into the car and drove home.

At home Mommy said we could all watch a movie and have some quiet time. I sat on the sofa and for once Alice sat next to me instead of always wanting to sit with Emmett. Emmett sat on the other sofa by himself, and he bit his hand so much that there was blood on his face and even on his t-shirt. When Mommy tried to speak to him he wouldn’t answer or wouldn’t look at her, so then we all just watched the movie and were very quiet.

When Daddy came home I ran and gave him a big hug, and then he and Mommy talked very quietly in the kitchen while we finished watching the movie.

“How are you doing, pumpkin?” Daddy said, coming into the living room and giving Alice a hug. He turned her around so he could see her face under the light, and in the bright light I could see a bruise on her cheek and her eye was a bit puffy. “How does your eye feel?”

“I had hotdogs for lunch,” Alice told him. This wasn’t really an answer to Daddy’s question, but sometimes Alice isn’t very good at conversations and forgets things or gets mixed up. “With mustard.”

“Mmmm, yummy!” Daddy said, and he pretended to eat Alice up, which made her laugh. I was glad she wasn’t sad because of the visitation anymore.

Daddy crouched down next to Emmett and reached for the hand that was in his mouth and said, “Can I have a look at that, buddy? It looks like it hurts today.”

But Emmett just pushed Daddy away so hard that Daddy nearly fell over, and then he started crying and screaming, “NO! No looking! I don’t want you! I hate you! I want my momma! I hate you!” and he didn’t stop.

It was very awful, and I didn’t know what to do. It was scary to see Emmett screaming and crying and trying to hit Daddy, and I think Alice thought so too because she squashed up very close to me on the sofa.

“Esme,” Daddy called. “Can you take Edward and Alice upstairs? How about a bath in the big tub, kids? You can having some bubbles in the Jacuzzi.” He moved so that Emmett couldn’t hit him in the face, but he just let him keep screaming at him and sometimes punching at him while Mommy came and in took Alice and me upstairs.

Like Daddy had suggested, Mommy filled up the big Jacuzzi tub in their bathroom for Alice and me, which is usually a special treat. She put in bubble bath, and the jets made the bubbles froth up until they were all the way up to my chin! I made a bubble beard so I looked like Santa Claus, and Alice piled bubbles on top of her head so that she looked like a cupcake. It was fun, but the best thing was that the water jets were so noisy that we didn’t have to hear Emmett any more.

I was very nervous when the bath was finished and I had to go downstairs, but it was very quiet. When I peeked into the living room Daddy was sitting on the sofa and Emmett was asleep on his lap.

I didn’t say anything, but I tiptoed over and climbed up next to Daddy so that he could put his arm around me too. Alice came in too and she sat on Daddy’s other side and hugged Emmett, but he didn’t wake up.

“Is Emmett okay?” I whispered.

“He’ll be fine,” Daddy said. “He just got too mad and too sad, and he needed to yell and cry and shout for a little while. I’m sure when he wakes up he’ll just be the same old regular Emmett. He really misses his mom.”

“Not me,” Alice said. “That mommy is mean. I want my new mommy and I’m going to live here for ever and ever.”

Daddy didn’t say anything, but he reached out so that he could hug Alice too. I was glad that his arms were big enough to hug all three of us at the same time.

When Mommy came in she smiled at us all and gave Emmett a kiss, and then she sat down next to me. Her eyes were all red, and I climbed up into her lap and touched her face. “Are you crying?”

“I was, a little bit,” Mommy said. She shuffled over on the sofa so she could rest her head on Daddy’s shoulder.

“How come?” Alice looked worried.

“Because it makes me feel sad when any of you kids are sad,” Mommy said, but she smiled when she said it. “I want to do everything I can to make sure you’re all happy and safe, and it’s very hard when there are things I can’t fix.”

I hugged her tightly. “You’re the best Mommy I know.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

We all sat on the sofa, and even though it had been a Bad Day it was nice to be sitting all together. After a little while Emmett woke up and then Daddy said that we should buy our dinner for an easy night and what should we get? Because Emmett had been so sad I said he could choose. He chose pizza, and Mommy didn’t say anything about it being junk and needing our vegetables.

The next day Emmett asked me to come with him to our room, because he wanted me to help him. Emmett had never, ever asked me for help before. He didn’t even like asking Mommy and Daddy for help because he liked to do everything for himself.

He invited me to climb up on his top bunk, where usually Alice and me aren’t allowed to go. At the top of the bunk there is a shelf, and on there I could see Emmett’s radio and books about baseball and sea creatures, as well as his baseball glove and his Spiderman toothbrush that he still wouldn’t leave in the bathroom, and a photo of him and his momma when he was a baby that Mara gave him one day. His red sweater that he slept with instead of a teddy bear was half under his pillow.

Behind the photo I could see a package of cookies and a yucky brown banana, but I didn’t say anything about that. Sometimes Emmett would hide food in our room, and when I told Mommy she said to tell her but don’t say anything to Emmett, so that’s what I did.

On Emmett’s bed there was a notepad and some markers. Mommy says markers belong at the table and not on beds, but when I said that to Emmett he just shook his head.

“I want to write a letter for a surprise. But I can’t write it by myself,” he said. His ears were red, which means he was embarrassed, but I didn’t think he should be. You need a lot of words to write an actual letter, so it’s quite hard.

“Do you want me to write?” I asked, and he nodded and pushed the paper to me.

“I’ll tell you what to say and you write it.”

Emmett wanted the letter to have different colours for all the words, so it took a long time for me to write what he said.

_Dear Dr Carlisle and Esme, I don’t hate you I like you and I like it here at your house. I like that you can look after me and Alice and I’m sorry I shouted and said mean things. Love from…_

“And then I can write my name,” Emmett said. He chose the blue marker and wrote his name very big. “That’s a good letter.”

I agreed. I had done my very best handwriting, and there were only a few words that I wasn’t sure how to spell. Usually I would have asked Mommy to spell them for me, but since Emmett wanted his letter to be a surprise I just wrote my best guess. “Daddy and Mommy will like it.”

“Thank you for doing the writing,” Emmett said, carefully folding his letter.

“That’s okay,” I said. “I like writing.” I really did like writing, and it was nice to be able to help Emmett because usually he didn’t really like me that much. “Are you going to give them your letter now?”

“I’ll put it on their bed for them to find,” Emmett said. “Do you want to go outside and play the spaceman and alien game?”

“Sure.” I climbed down and then Emmett and I sneaked into Mommy and Daddy’s room and left the letter on the pillow, and then we went outside to play.

The game was really fun, and at first when Mommy and Daddy came out and interrupted it I was disappointed. But Daddy said thank you for the letter, and Mommy gave Emmett a big hug and asked if we should all go out for ice cream, since we didn’t get to finish the day before. Emmett and I said definitely yes, and so everyone got into the car and we went to the ice cream store.

Instead of sitting on the tall stools at the counter like Mommy and I usually do on visitation days, we all sat squashed into a booth to eat which felt very cosy. We all chose our favourites. Mommy had toffee and I had chocolate with sprinkles and Daddy had plain chocolate and Alice had rainbow with gummy worms and Emmett had Rocky Road with five wafers and eleven Smarties because that’s what he asked for. He even let me have a taste from the side he hadn’t touched yet, because that’s the only way I can taste other people’s ice cream because of germs.

The ice cream was delicious, and it was nice to be all sitting and having a treat together. I thought that even though being a foster family was sometimes hard and sometimes scary and sometimes sad, sometimes it was happy and sometimes fun, and I wouldn’t mind if we stayed as a foster family with Emmett and Alice for a while.

 


End file.
